


Baby Steps

by Quotingmachine



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Daughter au, Dean Winchester's daughter, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2019-07-29 07:16:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 33,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16259318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quotingmachine/pseuds/Quotingmachine
Summary: When Dean was released from Michael’s grip, there were many things on his mind, but they all converged into one plan… finding you. But things don’t turn out exactly as he plans when the only thing he finds at your house is your dead mother. Being Dean Winchester’s daughter was not easy, but you could manage on your own… for a little while anyway.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AAAAHHHHHHH!!!! Hi guys! I'm back with a whole new Supernatural story (to anyone who doesn't know me, hi! I've written another story called "I Will Be Here" which you should totally check out *wink wink*) Sadly, this one isn't finished like the last one was, so updates may be scarce, but on the bright side, this means your comments could actually help steer my story, so if you have any thoughts (good or bad) on my story, I would love to hear them! Thank you all so much for your support and I hope you like the story.  
> PS: Sorry the first chapter is so short. Hopefully the others will be longer.

Your arms burned and you knew you had to stop soon- get off the road soon. But you were scared.

As you passed another exit on the highway, you scolded yourself for not stopping. You needed to take a break… and make a phone call.

You shook your head at the thought. You knew exactly what the response would be. There was no point.

You contemplated getting off at a small town or a big city. It was easier to blend into a big city, but you wanted to avoid people as much as possible.

You had enough money to get some dinner. But there was no way you could pay for a room somewhere as well, and you needed to rest. You also had to drop the plates of your motorcycle soon, meaning you’d have to dash out of town quickly.

Still distracted, you pulled off the highway, trying to remember all the precautions you had to take when you were in a populated area and subject to street cameras.

You went over the list your dad gave you in your head. You had memorized it many years ago, but even the simplest mistake could be detrimental.

Speeding down the quiet street, you paid little attention to your surroundings. It wasn’t until two bright lights appeared in front of you, approaching at a fast rate. You only had moments to think and a split second decision had you leaping from your bike and onto the rocky field to your left.

You rolled for what seemed like forever, your badly protected legs burning as the rocks and bushes tore through your jeans. Your arms were numb with pain and somewhere along the way the glass front of your helmet had shattered, and your eyes were strongly shut to protect from the shards.

When you finally slowed down, the loud ringing in your ears became unbearable and one by one your muscles loosened as you succumbed into a deep sleep.

~ ~ ~

Dean was present and awake at all times. Michael made sure of that.

When Sam and Cas finally freed him from Michael’s grip, Dean still could not escape from all the terrible deeds he’d done the past couple of months.

He gripped the steering wheel tighter as he pulled off into the familiar town. He couldn’t think of that now, he had other things to worry about.

He didn’t think he’d be back here anytime soon. Especially not with Sam.

Michael would come talk to him inside his head sometimes, He always came in Dean’s form, a constant reminder that everything that Michael did, he was responsible for.

~ ~ ~

“Interesting. Very interesting,” Michael said, appearing before Dean.

“What do you want you son of a bitch?”

Michael was unfazed by the outburst. “I can hear everything you think about. Now, when I suggested killing everything you loved, I expected you to act accordingly. To think about Sam and Mary, Jack and Cas…”

~ ~ ~

“Where are we going?” Sam asked impatiently next to Dean. “I don’t understand what’s so important you couldn’t go home and get some rest first.”

~ ~ ~

“But I always thought little Sammy would be first. I never thought anyone could beat all of them out. But this had turned out to be quite the interesting turn of events, I must admit.”

“What are you going to do to her?” Dean growled.

Michael chuckled vaguely at the helpless man.

~ ~ ~

Dean shook his head. He knew he had to tell Sam before they arrived, but he was dreading it.

“Michael… he said he would send someone to kill the most precious people in my life.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Dean, we’re all fine. Me, mom, Cas, Jack-”

“No, it’s not any of you.”

Sam looked out the window, doubling checking his surroundings to see if he recognized anything. “We don’t know anyone who lives here.”

Dean’s mouth was dry as he went to answer. “I do… my daughter.”


	2. Chapter 2

“How old is she?” Sam asked.

Dean could tell he was not happy. His muscles were tense, face stoic, but his voice betrayed all his emotions.

“She’s sixteen,” Dean admitted.

Sam’s forced chuckle was like nails on a chalkboard to Dean’s ears. “Sixteen. You kept this from me for sixteen years?”

“Hey,” Dean answered defensively. “I didn’t know about her all this time either… I met her when she was nine.”

Sam was quiet for a moment and Dean could see his jaw slacken slightly before he asked, “What does she look like?”

Dean smirked. “Her hair is slightly darker than mine, but her eyes are the same. At least, that’s what her mom claims. She says she would have never known it was my kid otherwise, but our eyes looked exactly the same. She has a few freckles. She’s… smart. So smart, way smarter than I am. And for her sixteenth birthday I bought her a used motorcycle and taught her how to ride and how to fix it…”

Sam watched as Dean drifted off at the thought of you. He could tell that Dean loved you a lot by the way his green eyes glistened both in love and fear for your safety, and he just couldn’t understand why Dean didn’t tell him about you.

He was silent the rest of the trip, unsure what else to ask.

Dean pulled onto the street you and your mother lived on. His mind was clouded so much he didn’t notice the ‘for sale’ sign out front. He dragged himself from the car and would have walked straight into the house if the next door neighbor hadn’t noticed him.

“Dean!” she exclaimed.

Nancy was the pale, old woman who lived in the house to the left of you and your mother. She was quite fond of you as a child, and was quite suspicious when she noticed Dean becoming a part of your life. She had many questions about his intentions, but Dean’s charms grew on her over time.

She rushed forward. “What are you doing here?! No one’s seen you for… for months.”

Dean hesitated, knowing that if they had been looking for him, something was wrong. “What’s going on?”

Sam stepped up next to Dean as she struggled to explain. “It’s… well um… four months ago, Y/N’s mom and some man, they said he was some engineer from New Jersey,... they were killed in the house. Y/N hasn’t been seen since. The police say she’s the main suspect because her motorcycle’s gone too. They think she shot them and then ran. I told them Y/N would… she would never, but they don’t really have much to go on except the evidence. Y/N’s been completely off the grid… for months…” she stuttered slightly at the sight of Dean’s face. “Has no one told you this?”

Dean took in a shaky breath. “...no. No, I’ve been pretty off the grid myself.”

He wanted to explain himself further, but was far too distracted.

Nancy seemed to understand, and she let him go, watching him head back to the car, tailed by Sam.

As they settled back in, Dean started the car, but didn’t go anywhere. He was grieving slightly for your mother. He wasn’t very close with her, but they were on good terms after he started to become a part of your life, and he’d never wish to subject her to this. And he was thinking about you.

“Dean, I’m sorry,” Sam spoke up when he noticed Dean wasn’t going anywhere. “Maybe Y/N’s still out there. Maybe she got away.”

Sam could see Dean’s jaw tighten as he said with absolute conviction. “She got away.”

“How do you know?”

Dean put his car into drive. “Because she’s my daughter.”

~ ~ ~

You knew where you were before you opened your eyes. The ache in your chest, along with the strange feeling in your arm and bright lights piercing through your eyelids could only mean one thing: hospital.

You would have ripped the IV out and ran straight for the window once you opened your eyes if it weren’t for two things. The first being you had no idea where you were located. The second was there was someone in your room… watching you.

She smiled when you opened your eyes, a tight professional smile that adults use when they want kids to trust them. What she didn’t know was you weren’t a kid, not anymore. Her hair was neatly pulled back in a bun and she wore a formal outfit which only furthered your suspicions toward her.

“I’m glad you’re awake.” She stood up from her seat at the foot of your hospital bed and walked over to your right side, reaching out a hand to shake. “My name is Agent Altomare. I work for the FBI. And you’re Y/N L/N, I presume?”

You bit the inside of your cheek as you shook her hand. You wanted to run so badly, but she had positioned herself in front of the window and the door was closed. You figured you didn’t have a chance.

She waited patiently for you to say something. “How long have I been here?” you asked.

She shrugged. “About 3 days I believe. At least, that’s when I got the phone call that someone had found you. You’ve been quite hard to find Miss L/N, are you aware of that?”

“I am,” you responded coolly.

She chuckled. “Well then, I’m sure you’re also aware that makes you look very suspicious when investigating the case of your mother.”

You knew this as well, but tried to look surprised in hopes of throwing her off a bit. “You don’t really think I killed my mother, do you? And that strange man?”

She pursed her lips and skipped over your question. “Y/N, I’m told you have no listed father. That you have no idea who your dad is. Is that true?”

You nodded quickly, not liking the direction this conversation was going. “That’s correct. It’s always been me and my mom.”

“But,” she continued, “I also have reports from multiple neighbors that a middle-aged man comes to visit you and take you out every year on your birthday. Is that also correct?”

You came up with an answer on the spot. “That’s my uncle, Dean. Not biologically, but he’s a close friend of my mom’s.”

“Ah.” Her eyebrows were raised disbelievingly, but she didn’t argue with you.

Suddenly, she stood up. “Well, it was very nice meeting and talking to you, Miss L/N. I’ll definitely come talk to you later, when you’re feeling a bit better. Until then, I’ll be working on your mother’s case. Please-”

You swiftly cut her off. “Why do the FBI care about my mother’s death?”

You could see her practically biting her tongue. “Please do call me if you have any more evidence or questions,” she dodged.

You raised an eyebrow as she walked to the door, then called out, “Wait a minute!”

She turned around eagerly. She probably hoped you planned to confess or give something incriminating away. However, all you said was, “Do you know what happened to my bike?”

She grimaced. “From what I hear, it was destroyed in the accident.”

You were disappointed, but not surprised. She scampered off somewhere, probably to build her case on why you were a murderer.

Once you knew she was gone, you called for a nurse. A spritely young woman came waltzing in.

“Hello ma’am. We’re so glad you’re awake. The doctor will be here shortly to assess-”

“Thank you. Do you possibly have a phone I could use?”


	3. Chapter 3

Dean tapped his foot impatiently. He was just about ready to throw his computer across the room, but he knew he had to control his temper. A broken computer wouldn’t help him find you.

He was frustrated that everything you knew about going into hiding came from him, and yet he couldn’t track your steps at all.

You were very smart, both book smart and street smart, traits you got from both of your parents, he realized. Everything he had taught you, all the rules and checklists he gave you, would only take you so far. The rest was up to you… and oh boy, were you wearing that responsibility well.

Four months, Dean thought. You watched your own mother die and kept yourself together enough to get away safely. You were probably alone out there, afraid and hungry, and you hadn’t slipped up once. There wasn’t a trace of you.

He was so caught up in staring at footage of a black motorcycle that likely wasn’t even yours, that he didn’t notice his phone going off next to him.

Sam had been turning blanks for several minutes now, so he was much more aware of the wildly vibrating phone. Seeing that Dean wasn’t going to answer it, he reached across the table and put it up to his ear.

“Hello?”

Dean was acutely aware of this action, still trying to read the plate numbers of the blurry motorcycle. He didn’t look up until he heard Sam speak again.

“Y/N?”

Dean had ripped the phone away from Sam in seconds.

“Y/N, if that’s you, then what’s our code word?”

“Serenity,” you mumbled on the other side.

Dean could have cried from relief at the sound of your voice.

“Y/N! Thank god. Where are you?”

“The John Muir Hospital in Walnut Creek, California?”

Dean jumped up immediately. “Stay there. I’m coming to get you.” He went to hang up, but your sudden cried stopped him.

“Dean! Wait!”

He lifted the phone to his ear once more. “Yes?”

“You can’t just come in and get me. I’m badly injured. They’ll insist I stay.”

He wanted to ask a million questions about why or how you had been hurt, but he didn’t have the time. “We’ll have to sneak you out.”

He came to a halt at the sound of frustration you made across the phone. “That’ll be difficult too.”

“Why?” he asked.

“The FBI found me,” you sighed.

~ ~ ~

“Hello again, Miss L/N,” Agent Altomare said politely as she walked in, but you knew she had no good intentions. “How are we today?”

You shrugged, not really up to giving her a full answer. Knowing that you would be gone by tomorrow, you figured it was pointless to feign innocence anymore.

She took this answer as an excuse to go on. “Well, I just have a few more questions for you today. Miss L/N, can you tell me what you were doing on the day your mother died?”

You answer was a half-baked lie you came up with on the spot. “I spent the day upstairs in my room. I heard my mother shout so I ran downstairs to see what had happened. There were two men in the house. I hid as one of them shot my mother and then shot the other man. The guy went to leave, but he saw me, so I ran outside, hoped on my bike and fled.”

She was taken aback by your calm responses, “Did you know either of the men?”

“No.”

“Do you know why anyone would wish to kill your mother?”

“No.”

She was silent for a minute. You knew this wasn’t the answer she was looking for. Perhaps she wanted you to throw a fit and start crying, even get so emotional that you slipped up. Or maybe she wanted you to go all The Crucible on her and start claiming someone had made you work for the Devil.

You stared at her with hard, unmoving eyes. “Is that all?”

Sh tapped her fingers on the clipboard in front of her. You suddenly could tell she had something she wanted to say to you. Her impatient tapping was no doubt a side effect of her waning self restraint. You were determined to get it out of her.

“Well, I’m currently a very busy person. The nurse will come in with my lunch in ten minutes and at 4:00 they’re going to have me walking around a bit, seeing as I haven’t done that in a while.”

“Have you ever heard the name Dean Winchester, Miss L/N?” she blurted out, with enough venom in her voice to make a snake shudder.

Both of you looked shocked once she said it. You could assume that she didn’t think she’d snap so quickly and yours because you never thought she’d think of something like that.

She rapidly recovered and tried to make it seem like she had meant to share that information.

“No ma’am. Never in my life.”

She bit the inside of her cheek. “No? Why it’s quite a marvelous story. You see, many years ago, when you were still quite young, a young man by the name of Dean Winchester was accused for the attempted murder of a young woman, named Rebecca Warren. He got away however, and from then on, he and his brother would continually pop up on the FBI’s radar with increasingly bizarre and heartless crimes. And somehow, they always got away. We even thought they had died a couple of times, but we would see signs of them still. Glimpses of one on camera or suspiciously similar DNA.” She paused there and you wondered how long she was going to go on with her story, but when she started talking again, it was directed at you. “You did say your mother’s friend’s name was Dean, did you not?”

You stuttered in your shock. “Yes ma’am.”

“Ah,” she smiled. “And do you, by chance, know his last name?”

“Campbell.”

You silently cursed yourself for giving such an obvious answer. She probably knew your father’s relation to that name.

She stood up. “It was very nice to have this talk with you today. I’ll be sure to come back tomorrow to talk more about your murdering friends.”

“Dean is not a-” you started, but she cut you off.

“Oh no, perhaps not. Perhaps it’s you who’s a murderer.”

You went silent at the vicious comment, not able to do anything but watch her leave.

As soon as the room was clear, your eyes flitted to the clock beside you. 12:25.

...Almost time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that the chapters are so short. I keep trying to make them longer, but at the same time I really want to finish so that I can post it, lol. I hope you liked it. Any questions, comments, and critiques are welcome!!!


	4. Chapter 4

You slowly pushed off from the bed, your legs like jelly beneath you. A quick glance over your shoulder reassured you that no one was walking by.

You breathed out through gritted teeth. One foot in front of the other.

The window was quite easy to slide open, but you were leaning heavily on the ledge, which made you afraid to crawl through. But you had to.

Turning away, you hoisted yourself into a sitting position. You swung your legs over the side. Now all that was left to do was jump down, but you knew your legs wouldn’t support you and, if you were seen, you wouldn’t be able to stand up fast enough to get away.

You looked over to your right, where a drain pipe was secured to the building. It was risky, but you figured you had to try. Reaching out, you wrapped your arms around it and slid off the ledge, forcing you to hold yourself up. Then, you slowly slid down.

Once you hit the ground outside, you shook your arms out. A quick look around told you that your father’s car was not in that lot, so you hobbled around the building, trying to walk through trees and bushes so that anyone who could possibly drive by wouldn’t notice you or your hospital gown.

Just around the corner you could see your father’s classic impala parked by the sidewalk. However, this created a problem, because your cover of trees and bushes would have been lost if you walked around the corner, not to mention it was directly on the main street so there would be multiple witnesses.

It took you several seconds to come to a decision… and not a very good one at that.

You knelt down in the grass and picked up a few small rocks. One by one, you tossed them towards the back of the car, trying your hardest to avoid hitting the windshield. Tap, tap.

You could hear Dean mumbling as he got out of the car and you felt your breath stop at the sight of him.

You had thought about everything you were going to say to your dad when you saw him again. All the harsh ways you would tell him off for what he had done to you. Plus, you had a million questions to ask him all starting with ‘why...?’. And yet when you were here, all you wanted to do was run into his arms and cry. To have some comfort and feel at home again.

He sauntered to the back of his car, checking to see if whatever had been hitting it had done any damaging, and seeing it to be alright, he was going to slid back into the driver’s seat, but you called, “Dean!”

He whipped around so fast you were worried about his neck. His eyes landed on you, huddled in the bushes, and he ran over with no hesitance.

“Y/N?” he cried, running behind the building to you and lifting you up in his arms. “Oh my god, Y/N. I thought you were dead. I was so scared. You don’t know how happy I am to see you. Are you hurt?”

He put you down, looking you over. You had a few cuts and bandages over your arms and legs, as well as around your eyes. 

You sighed. “Well, you did just pick me up from the hospital. It’s some minor cuts and bruising, with the exception of the large welt on my forehead.” He unconsciously noticed the thick bandaging taped to the right side of your head. “And I broke a rib, but it’s been a few days, so it’s probably for the most part recovered. I can’t run to your car though. I haven’t stood in 4 days, so my legs aren’t strong enough to hold me up through that.”

He nodded and wrapped his arm around your waist. “I’ll escort you then.”

He did a quick check around the building to make sure that no one would notice the two of you walk from the bushes and once the coast was clear, he helped you out the street and walked you the passenger’s side of his car.

You sat down and closed the door behind you, taking in a deep breath. You began to tear up slightly at the familiar smell of leather and sweat. A silly thing to miss, but you couldn’t have asked for more in that situation.

When he opened the door, you swiped any evidence of emotion from your face and stared out the front window. “We should go,” you admitted. “I’m sure they’ll start looking for me any minute, and if Agent Altomare is nearby she’ll recognize your car for sure.”

He put the car into drive and began to pull away from the hospital, but you could see the confusion in his stare.

“Why would she recognize my car?” he asked, as soon as the two of you were on the main road.

You bit your lip, forgetting that he wasn’t up-to-date on all that she had said to you. “She came to talk to me again, today. And she’s quite knowledgeable in your case, Dean Winchester.”

You could see his head jerk from the corner of your eye. “She knows I’m your dad-?”

“No!” you interrupted. “At least, I don’t think so. But she thinks you’re involved in my mother’s death. She thinks I’m working with you or…”

He nodded in understanding. “Or something along those lines. But what tipped her off?”

You shrugged. “Well, the neighbors told her that a man came to visit me on my birthdays. She thought it was my dad and that’s when I tried to tell her you were my uncle, Dean. So, I gave her the name, but I don’t think I did anything to make her think you were that Dean.”

There was a sudden silence after you finished speaking, as if he couldn’t muster up the energy to acknowledge that you had said something. The two of you stayed like that for a while.

“We’ll stop for dinner soon.” His voice had a certain uncomfortableness lingering in it, as if now that all the “happy to see you again” feelings had passed, he had to face the fact that you were… there. “Then, we’ll find a cheap motel somewhere and sleep for the night and continue our journey in the morning.”

“How far is your house?” you asked.

“Lebanon,” he admitted sullenly.

“Lebanon, Kansas!?”

His face didn’t change. “Yep. Lebanon, Kansas.”

~ ~ ~

The night went smoothly. Your dad got you some food and told you to get some rest. Although motel rooms weren’t exactly your favorite, you had been sleeping on the streets, or not even sleeping at all, for some time now, so you would take it.

When you woke up the next morning, Dean wasn’t in the room, but that didn’t worry you too much, as you knew he planned to grab some breakfast. What did surprise you was the fact that he was out at seven in the morning, because the both of you had always talked about how much you slept in.

You pulled yourself up from the bed and took a quick sweep around the room to see if he had perhaps left you a note. As you wandered, you unconsciously tugged at the bottom of your hospital gown. It was chilly in the garment, and you would be glad to get to Dean’s house and hopefully put on some normal clothes.

The only thing odd you noticed was the weird shape underneath Dean’s pillow. You slipped over to his bed and lifted the pillow to see a dinged up silver gun with a white handle lying on the bed.

You stared at it for a minute, the sight reminding you of that night… with your mom.

Suddenly, there was a rustling at the front door and you immediately dropped the pillow and stepped to the side hoping to look natural when Dean entered.

His eyes surfed the room before landing on you. You gave him a half hearted smile, to which he responded by tossing a handful of clothes to you.

“Get dressed. If people see you walking around in a hospital gown in the light of day, they’ll be suspicious.”

You nodded and turned, walking into the bathroom to try on what he had found.

You ripped off all tags and stickers you found on the clothing, before sliding into them. It was a simple pair of leggings and a white t-shirt. The leggings were obviously cheap and you didn’t doubt that within two days there would be at least one hole in them. Around the ankles were little white flower patterns. The t-shirt was too big and the neckline kept sliding off your shoulders.

Taking a look in the mirror, you could almost laugh at what you had become. But, it wasn’t bad enough for that, so you brushed your rat’s nest of a hair back with your fingers and washed off your face.

When you walked outside, Dean was ready to go, the one bag he had brought into the room already zipped up and over his shoulder.

“Does everything fit okay?” he asked.

You shrugged. “Well enough. But you didn’t buy me any shoes.”

He chuckled and gave you a brief smile. “I don’t know what size shoe you are. And clothing nowadays is so expensive, I wasn’t about to guess like I did for the other clothes.”

You understood that much. Your mother always complained when you asked for new clothes, because they were so expensive. She always bought you what you needed though. “Where did you get these anyway?”

“There’s a Target down the road. I ran over there. I also grabbed us some chips. I couldn’t remember what kind you liked, so I grabbed a couple of different bags,” he explained and you saw in his eyes how nervous he was. He was afraid. Maybe that you wouldn’t like it, or you’d reject him as a dad, or you’d wish that he was like your mom.

You gave him a reassuring smile. “Thanks Dean.”

“No problem, kiddo.”


	5. Chapter 5

As you grew closer, so did your anxiety. Dean had explained to you that he lived with his brother, your uncle Sam, his best friend Cas, Cas’ somewhat adopted son, Jack, his mother, Mary, and his uncle, Bobby. He also apologized if the house was somewhat a mess, because they had recently had many other’s staying in the house.

This made you nervous for two reasons. The first was the fact that so many people could fit in one house. You wondered if you would end up sleeping on the floor in someone’s room. The second, was the fact that you had to meet them all.

Dean explained that they had only just found out you existed, so they might be surprised to see you, and although you understood why he hadn’t told them, you didn’t want to end up being a cause of tensions in the house.

Suddenly, Dean slowed down and finally stopped. You looked around, but the outside wasn’t a house. In fact, it looked somewhat like an old factory building. There was a set of stairs, leading down to an entrance, set in a circular stone wall below ground level.

“Welcome home,” he grumbled and turned off the car.

Your eyes widened. “What?” Your mind was suddenly on high alert, wondering if your dad possibly lived in an abandoned warehouse. Your mind all at once went back to how much you wished your mother was still there. That you still lived in your real home.

“Yeah…” he said slowly. Then, he got out of the car.

You followed him, arms wrapped around your shoulders to protect from the cold.

You were close to not following him down the stairs, but your mind said, ‘screw it’, so you did.

It was warm inside, a feature that almost made you cry by itself. Your hands fell to their sides and you took in a deep breath. It smelled just like the impala, something you also loved about it. That’s when you finally opened your eyes and really took in the place.

It wasn’t exactly what you’d call homely. In fact, it looked more like public library than a house, but due to the fact that you had thought it was going to be the inside of an abandoned factory two minutes ago, you were more than happy to accept it. You stood up above the room, on a metal platform that led down to the front area with a round table and chairs.

“Y/N, this is the bunker.” Dean was already halfway down the stairs.

You felt like a duckling, walking on his heels everywhere. But, you didn’t want to leave his side and scurried after him. “The what?”

“We call this the bunker. It used to be somewhat of a safehouse for our ancestors. Now it’s just… our home. I mean, Sam and me. We’ve lived here for a little while now. There are plenty of rooms, so I’ll suit one up for you in a little bit, so that you can get some more sleep. Sound good?”

You bit your lip hesitantly. “Yeah, okay.”

“Hey, is she…?” The voice picked up from a hallway to your right. Both you and Dean turned to see the approaching figure. In stepped a tall man. Like, taller than your dad, which you had almost thought was impossible. He stopped short when he saw you.

Your heart rate picked up as you came to the conclusion that that was probably your uncle, Sam. You were unsure what he would say to you.

“I guess so,” he said, finishing off what he had started to say before he walked in. There was a moment of unsure silence, the both of you simply staring at one another.

Dean cleared his throat. “Y/N, meet Sam. Sam, meet your beautiful niece, Y/N.”

Sam nodded and you weren’t sure if he was acknowledging Dean’s statement or agreeing that you were beautiful. “Hi Y/N. I don’t know if Dean has mentioned me before-?”

“He has,” you assured him. “Although he never mentioned that you were a giant.”

Sam laughed out loud. “No, he wouldn’t…” He took a few steps toward you, hands in his pockets. “You, uh… you look just like him.” He glanced at his brother, then back at you. “Do you get that a lot?”

You shrugged. “Only from people who know we’re related, and there aren’t many.”

“Do you…” He took another couple of steps. “Sorry, if this is strange, but do you mind if I hug you?”

You raised your eyebrows at what was indeed a strange request, but quickly nodded. You saw how close he was to tears, and you really wanted Sam to like you.

He knelt down to be closer to you in height and wrapped his arms around your shoulders. His hug enveloped you in a way that was both similar and different than that of your dad’s. You were happy to be there.

He pulled away. “I’m so glad to meet you.”

The corners of your mouth lifted unintentionally. “Me too.”

He stepped back and turned to Dean. “So, you found her alright?”

He nodded. “Yeah. She’s a little scratched up, hence the bandaging on her forehead. But, she’s otherwise alright. The main issue was avoiding the FBI.”

“FBI?” Sam asked, looking between the both of you.

“Yeah, they were worried that Y/N here might be caught up in some horrible scheme with the criminal Dean Winchester. You wouldn’t know anyone like that, would you?”

Sam’s face fell. “They on our tails again?”

Dean only shrugged. “Y/N, why don’t you talk to your uncle here for a minute. I’m going to set up a room for you.”

You watched him go, silently.

“Um, here.” Sam awkwardly pulled out a chair for you, then walked around the table and sat in his own chair. “Please sit.”

You did so, as graciously as you could manage.

“So, your dad says you’ve been on the road for a while. What was that like?”

You swallowed. “Uh… it was rough. I took all my dad’s advice. I drove north for a while. I found a small town, got some money, then I switched the plates on my motorcycle and went in a completely different direction. I stayed away from things like street cameras and police vehicles. I switched directions often and stole new license plates. I never bought dinner and slept in a motel in the same town. And I called Dean every chance I got… but he never answered.”

Sam bit his tongue "Y/N, I’m so sorry about that. Dean would never leave you alone like that, I promise. What happened-”

“It’s okay,” you soothed him. “Dean and I… we’ll have to take baby steps on the matter, but I don’t hate him.”

Sam squinted his eyes. “You’re much more mature than I would have thought.”

You looked down at your hands. You didn’t know what to say to that. All your answers were crude and unnecessary. 

“Why were you in the hospital?”

You looked at Sam once more, with a guilty smile. “I crashed my bike. Badly. I was completely out of it for three days and when I woke up, Agent Altomare was already there.”

“I’m sorry about your bike,” he apologized.

“No worries. I’ll… it was my fault. I should have been more careful.”

“Hey Y/N,” Dean interrupted. “I set up a room for you, but someone else wants to meet you first.” He stepped aside so that a woman could walk in. She had blonde hair and, like Sam, she looked ready to cry at the sight of you. “This is your grandmother, Mary.”

Unlike Sam, she didn’t hesitate to run forward and hug you. You were a bit shocked, but hugged her back. She pulled away and held onto your shoulders. “Wow. It’s so nice to meet you. I’ve always wanted grandkids and… you are so beautiful. You are all I could have hoped for.”

The ends of her hair tickled her shoulders as she smiled at you, looking you over. Her eyes glistened and she sucked in a deep breath.

She paused, and waited for your response. You hesitated. “I’m sorry, this is going to sound horrible…” you looked between her and your dad. “Are you really their mom? You’re so young.”

The sound of her laugh was light and musical. “Yes. But, I may have lost a few years?”

“I’m not following you,” you admitted.

She smiled. “A story for some other time. Right now, you should get some sleep. You’ll have to meet the rest of the gang in the morning.”

You nodded as she guided you over to your dad, who led you to your room.

~ ~ ~

Sitting on your new bed, legs folded, you couldn’t take your eyes off of the door. It was strange, but it felt… enclosing.

The whole day you couldn’t help feeling unsure. But you tried to tell yourself that it was just the new place. That you’d get used to it over time.

You massaged your forehead and pushed yourself off the bed. No point in stressing about it right now.

As soon as you opened the door, you did a quick sweep in the hall to make sure you weren’t disturbing anyone out there. Then, you turned back into your dimly lit room.

There were a couple of books on the desk, which you decided to investigate to pass the time.

One in particular caught your eye. It was wrapped and bound by a leather string, like something you’d find in a hipster stationery store. You picked it up almost unconsciously, wondering if it really was old, or if someone had bought it to fit the aesthetic of the house.

“It’s three o’clock in the morning,” your father’s tired voice grumbled.

There was a sudden regret that came with your need to have the door open this evening, but you held it back.

“I’m aware,” you admitted. “There’s a clock in here.”

He sighed. He was still in the doorway, as if afraid to enter. “I meant, why are you still up?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” You finally put the book down and turned to fully face Dean.

He shrugged innocently. “I woke up and thought I’d come check on you. What’s your excuse?”

“Not tired.”

There was a moment of hesitance between you where you almost thought he’d leave, but he finally stepped inside your room and approached you.

“I don’t believe that,” he countered. “I know for a fact you haven’t slept in months.”

You opened your mouth to deny it, but you realized there was really no point.

He nodded. “I guess my dad instincts were right. You do need checking up on.”

A sudden urge came over you and you silently stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his waist. You could tell he was shocked, because he hesitated to hug you back, but slowly he did, protective arms circling around your back. You sighed in relief, warmth and comfort overwhelming you. A tear fell. And then another.

He cleared his throat, noticing your dampening eyes.

“Hey Y/N… you should lie down.”

You shook your head. “No. No, I don’t want to. Can I just stay here? Forever?”

You felt like such a child while asking, but this was everything you had been missing the past couple months. In fact, this is what you had been missing practically all your life. A warm, fatherly hug. And as great as your mom was, and as much as you missed her in this moment, his hug was all you truly needed. It was all you were going to need.

His eyes drooped and you felt bad for suggesting it, as he probably wanted to get back to sleep. But, he didn’t leave, or even say anything. Repositioning the two of you, he pulled the both of you onto your bed. You snuggled up next to him, glad that he was staying with you for the night.

“Goodnight Dean,” you slipped out. “Thank you.”

“Goodnight Y/N.”

You could feel a small smile pull at your lips as you passed out, the past couple of months of little sleep catching up to you.

Dean could feel your breath evening out as you dozed off and smiled as well. Pulling you closer to him he mumbled, “Not tired my ass,” and fell asleep too.


	6. Chapter 6

Dean woke you up the next morning. Not on purpose, but to get up and get some breakfast, he had to get his arm out from underneath you and that task proved difficult to do without disturbing you. After a couple of minutes of awkward and uncomfortable scooching on his part, you groaned and opened your eyes.

Dean sighed, disappointed that he wasn’t able to let you sleep more, and sat up. 

“Hey.” His voice was a bit gruff, after having just woken up. “Good morning. You can go back to sleep if you’d like. I was just going to grab some coffee.”

It took you a minute to remember where you were. The bunker. Then you tried to remember why your dad was there. By the time you had figured it all out, Dean had left. He figured that if you were tired enough to not process what he had said, you’d just fall back asleep.

But you didn’t. As soon as he left, you tried, but you got nowhere, and decided to get up.

You walked in the direction he had gone, slowly, listening for him or one of the other people you had met.

“I’m worried about her. I don’t understand how she can be so… normal at a time like this.” It was your father’s voice. You followed the sound. “I don’t notice anything wrong with her. I might have never known that she just lost her mother, or lived on the street for months. And now, I doubt she’s just going to fit in perfectly here. The closest person in age to her is Jack, and he’s like, a fully grown child. And the only other girl is mom, but she’s her grandma.Plus, if she continues this trend of not sleeping? I don’t know what to do to…?”

You finally came upon what you assumed to be the door they were behind and walked right in.

Your father trailed off and frowned at you. “What are you doing up? I thought you were going to get some more sleep?”

You shrugged. “I couldn’t.”

That’s when you took a good look at the room around you. It was a kitchen of sorts. Your father sat at a table with another, dark-haired man, in a trenchcoat. Sam was leaning up against the counter.

Sam smiled at you when he saw you. “Hey Y/N, how was your sleep?”

“It was fine,” you responded.

“Do you want something to eat?” He stood up and turned to the counter, pointing things out as he named them. “We have some bread if you want toast. Or, I could make some bacon and omelettes. Or, we have generic cereal brands if you’d prefer one of those.”

You hesitantly walked up beside him. “Um, can you make scrambled eggs?”

He grinned goofily. “Of course. Why don’t you go wait with your dad and I’ll get started on them?”

You turned and approached your father and the unfamiliar man, who had been watching your current interaction with Sam.

“Y/N, this is Castiel. Cas, this is my daughter, Y/N.”

Cas held out a hand for you to shake, which you were more than happy to take, because you were worried that he’d want to hug you, like the others had.

“It is very nice to meet you, Y/N,” Cas said politely. His voice was deep and somewhat startling. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Cas is an angel,” Dean said quickly, before taking a long sip of his coffee.

“An angel?” you asked, in disbelief.

Cas nodded, somewhat reluctantly. “Yes.”

You looked at your dad, and he stared back over the lid of his cup, still sipping coffee, presumably so that he wouldn’t have to explain anything else.

“Hello everyone! How is breakfast…?” In walked a young man a bit closer to your age. He had blond hair and an innocent face, that adjusted to curiosity as he noticed you. He waved frantically, a grin crossing his face. “Oh, hello!” He skipped up to your group and sat down with Cas. “My name is Jack. Are you Y/N?”

You nodded. “Yep. That’s me.”

“It’s very nice to meet you. You look just like your dad. This is my dad-” he gestured to Cas. “Well, not my biological dad, but he’s my real father. Anyway, Sam and Dean are kind of like fathers to me, too, so you and I are like, brother and sister!”

His energy made you giggle, however the smile slowly faded as the thought of someone who wasn’t even related to your father was closer to his family than you were. You felt strange and out of place in the group and now this kid was proving to have already beaten you for affection.

“Here we go,” Sam said, placing the eggs he had made in front of you. You gave him an appreciative smile before beginning to eat.

The room was silent as soon as you started, not really sure what to say because most of their questions were going to be directed to you.

Dean cleared his throat. “Um, so Y/N, I think it’s about time that you explain to us exactly what happened. I’ll let you finish up your food while I grab mom and Bobby.”

You were a bit uncomfortable that he was going to make you explain to the whole bunker, but unwilling to argue, you nodded as he got up and left.

You put down your fork, deciding to use this time to work out what you would say, but Sam seemed to have other plans. He slipped around you and sat down where Dean had been just a moment ago, waiting until Dean was gone to say, “I’m curious Y/N, was Dean a good father?”

You were a bit taken aback by the question. “Well, what do you mean?”

Everyone in the room ears’ perked up, waiting for an answer.

“Dean and I… didn’t have a great upbringing. We always thought that we’d be terrible parents. So, I know you don’t see him all that much, but has he been a good dad?”

You bit your lip, trying to focus enough to come up with an appeasing answer for Sam. “I, uh- I don’t have much to base it off of, but I think Dean was a fine dad. I wish I could have met him earlier, but I understand that he didn’t know I existed. And I believe he left me prepared.”

“Prepared?” Sam asked. “Do you mean- Did he train you to be a hunter?”

Cas leaned back a bit in his seat and Jack’s eyes were knit together in confusion.

You shook your head quickly. “Not to hunt… but he did tell me what he did for a living. He told me about different types of monsters, how to identify them, and how to kill them. And he told me what to do if something bad happened. He gave me a bunch of resources.”

“And that’s how you were able to live on the road these past months?”

You didn’t have time to answer, because Dean walked back in, followed by Mary and a man who looked much older and grumpier than the rest of the group.

“Y/N. You’ve met your grandmother. And this is Bobby.”

You waved to them both. Bobby was surprisingly, or unsurprisingly, the first person not to greet you in the house. He simply grumbled and sat down. Mary did wave back, before sitting across from Bobby and your father leaned up against the kitchen counter.

“He’s not much of a morning person,” he tried to excuse Bobby, but you didn’t really mind.

As soon as everyone was settled into the room and silence was starting to weigh heavy, Dean spoke up again. “Alright Y/N. Sorry to put you on the spot, but do you mind telling us what happened the night your mother died? How did you get away? And what have you been doing the past couple of months?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, every muscle in your body tense. “I’m not sure what you want to know. This guy showed up at our house one day. He knocked on the door when I was upstairs and I heard him ask my mother if he could speak with me. She asked who he was and why he wanted to, but he wouldn’t say. He just kept on insisting. Finally, she slammed the door on him, threatening to call the cops, but he just forced his way in. I could hear all of this going on, but I didn’t know what he was yet, so I stayed upstairs, just watching him. But he showed no signs of being anything strange.

“I crept downstairs and went for the gun we keep in the kitchen. I figured shooting it might not kill it, but it’ll at least slow it down a little, right? So, I grabbed the gun and just as I was about to walk into the living room… I heard my mom scream and a shot and I watched her fall to the floor… He still hadn’t noticed me, but I was a bit too shocked to do anything. Then, right when he turned around, I put a round through his skull. I was expecting him scream in pain, or run at me, but he simply crumbled. Like a normal person.

“Well, at this point, the neighbors had just heard two gunshots from our house and I panicked, knowing they’d probably call the cops and I had no explanation for them. Not to mention, you always say that if one thing comes, more will be on the way, so I should run. And that’s what I did. I smashed my phone, grabbed a gun and some money, and hopped on my bike. I headed north. About two hours away, I stole a license plate from an abandoned-looking car and went back south, hoping to throw them off. I practically passed right back through my street. But I kept going south until I was out of state. I stopped, found a payphone and tried to call you, like you told me. I used every phone number you gave me. But no dice.”

Dean opened his mouth to argue, but suddenly seemed to have no voice. Your eyes were a bit watery from opening the still-healing wound of your mother’s death. Nobody looked directly at you.

You let out a long sigh. “So, I kept running. I stayed out of the public eye and continued to steal plates and money when I needed to. And I called you. It started out everyday. Then it was just when I could find a cheap payphone. And then… every couple of weeks. But you never picked up. No one did.”

“Y/N, I would have, but I…” he trailed off and you knew you weren’t going to get an explanation from him. You looked around hoping that someone would make an excuse but… silence.

You stood up. “Well, that’s it. So I’m going to go.”

As you started to walk away, he grabbed your arm to stop you. “Y/N, how did you-?”

You pulled away. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” you insisted.

“But it’s important,” Dean said. “I’ve been worried about you. Where have you been?”

You looked into his eyes, searching for the hints of some sick joke, but he was completely serious. You scoffed, yanking your arm back fully.

“Where have I been, Dean? Really?” His eyes widened at the reaction. “I’ve told you where I’ve been. I’ve been on the road. For four months. Trying to find you. So you were worried about me? Believe me, I was more worried about myself. I figured you were dead… and you might as well have been! Are you really gonna scold me now? Like a good dad looking out for their kid? Well, trust me Dean, you aren’t one. A good dad doesn’t visit their kid once a year. A good dad doesn’t hide his daughter’s existence from everyone he knows. And why? Because he’s ashamed? And least of all, a good dad doesn’t let their kid starve on the streets with a motorcycle after her mom dies, while he hunts stupid monsters with brother and angel friend!”

“Y/N-” Sam tried and you suddenly remembered all the people in the room.

“No, don’t… I’m sorry, I need some time alone.”

You rushed out, not sure where you were going, turning down hallways until you found what looked to be a training room. Then, you sat down in a corner and bawled.

~ ~ ~

“I’m going after her,” Dean insisted, but Mary held him back.

“Don’t. If she wants to be alone, let her be alone.”

“But mom, I can’t-”

“Dean.” Her voice was stern. “Why won’t you tell her where you were. The thought that you’ve been ignoring her is killing her. She already knows angels exist, why not tell her that you were possessed.”

“Because… because I did it.”

Everyone in the room, who had previously been pretending to be preoccupied by their breakfast, turned quickly to watch the scene unfold.

“You did what?” Mary asked, in a low voice.

“I’m the reason Michael knew she existed… and I’m-he’s the one who sent out the guy to kill her mom… it’s my fault and I can’t-” he struggled to continue “-I can’t tell her that”

Mary sighed, almost inaudibly. “I understand. I don’t like it, but fine. But believe me, Dean. She’s going to find out sometime. And when that happens, you’re going to wish you had told her.”

He nodded. “I know.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM NOT DEAD! Sorry this took so long. Love you guys!

“Oh good. I found you. Dean was worried that you had left the bunker, but it’s so big I figured you had to be in here somewhere.”

The young boy, Jack, approached, sitting across from you. His head was tilted to the side, a look you had seen him sport many times in the span of the day. You wondered how you could be jealous of such an innocent person, while he searched your face for some sort of response.

Finally, you humored him. “My dad send you to find me?”

He pursed his lips slightly. “Not exactly. He thought you’d be in your room, but when he didn’t find you there, he insisted on going outside to search. So, he did. But me, I thought you were inside and I told this to Sam, and Sam said, ‘Okay. You can search the rooms to the left and I’ll go right and if you find her, bring her back to the kitchen.’ And I found you!”

You shook your head suddenly. “Um… I’d prefer not go back to the kitchen right now.”

He raised an eyebrow, and you realized curiosity was common for him. “But Sam told me to bring you there. I promise they’re all really nice there… most of the time. He just wants to see if you’re okay.”

You struggled to find the words to explain this to the boy. He seemed to have the mental structure of an elementary school kid. You didn’t mind, in fact, you were glad to find someone so simple living in the house. But, you wanted to explain this to him as clearly as possible.

“I know they’re nice, Jack. But I… I need to work some things out first. It’s just-”

“What do you need to work out?”

You shrugged. “My feelings? About my dad?”

Jack nodded in understanding. “Okay. I thought you liked your dad? You just told Sam he was a good father. What else do you need to work out?”

“Well, I did-” Your throat started to close up, but you were resolved not to cry about your problems to this boy. “I thought he was a good dad. But now I’m not so sure. Up until today I had never thought about it and now…”

“I think Dean’s a good dad.” His tone was cheerful and optimistic, something you would despise in another situation but… you liked that he wasn’t trying to play the sympathetic therapist card. “I mean, he isn’t exactly my dad, but he’s much better than my biological father ever was. Did he ever tell you who my dad was?”

Your eyebrows knit together and you shook your head, not sure why you would care, but he kept going.

“My father was Lucifer.”

“Lucifer… like-” Your eyes widened at the thought. “The devil, Lucifer?”

He nodded, absentmindedly, then noticing your concern added. “Oh, don’t worry. He’s dead.”

“Oh,” you sighed. The bluntness of his speech was startling, but you guessed you could appreciate it. “Is that good?”

“Yes,” he replied.

You took that in. “Well then… I’m glad.”

“Will you come back now?”

You stared at Jack, and then, at the door. I mean, you had to face him sometime, right?

You agreed and began to stand up, but stopped short. “Wait, first-”

“Yeah?”

You felt bad burdening Jack with the question, but maybe he’d be better at responding than your dad.

“Why did he…? What happened to Dean these past months? I know that I’m pissed at him for leaving me alone but when I was yelling at him… I could tell that something was different. Is there a reason he couldn’t come for me?”

Jack was quick to answer. “Of course Dean wanted to come for you! He would never intentionally leave you alone like that… But I shouldn’t tell you why. I’m sorry.”

His eyes held a truth that you could get behind. Unlike you father, who tried to cover his lies, Jack was completely forward about what he could and could not say and you appreciated that. “Thank you, Jack.”

He held out a hand for you. “Let’s go back to the kitchen!” he exclaimed with a smile.

~ ~ ~

“Y/N.”

Dean’s voice was soft. He watched as you followed behind Jack solemnly and he breathed a sigh of relief, but dread hit him as he remembered all you had said.

Jack didn’t say anything as he left. He simply smiled and waved goodbye.

And you were standing alone, in front of your father.

You thought back to little nine year old you. The little girl who wished for a dad so badly, and by some miracle, saw him show up. For her birthday, no less. That girl would have run into his arm and said sorry for fighting with him. She would give and do anything to see him smile at her… to make him happy. Because she loved him as the man she never knew. But you weren’t that little girl anymore.

And you thought of the twelve year old who was just starting to learn who, and what, her father really was. She, would wilt with one look into her father’s hard eyes. Even when he smiled and took her to the movies she was too scared to speak. What had once been her hero became the father who abandoned her and was here to frighten her… or to make her a soldier like himself… and she didn’t want that for a second. But she was far too scared to say no to him. Because she loved him, and didn’t want to see him upset. But you weren’t that girl anymore.

And then, of sixteen year old you, who would stand her ground and scream at her father or mother if necessary. Rebellious and hot-headed she was. She would have scoffed at the younger her who was frightened of Dean and what he wanted her to do, because she felt like she knew everything now. She’d never be afraid of the monsters under her bed again, and sure as hell not her father. But, she loved him, too. You weren’t her either.

Here and now you were Y/N L/N. You were your mother’s daughter and you were reasonable, but stern. You would stand your ground in front of your father and listen to his excuse and forgive him, but you weren’t going to let this slide. What you had been through deserved a true apology. And then, you could go back to being nine, or twelve, or sixteen, or a whole new person. Ignorant, or anxious, or a jackass. But your mother was proud of herself and you channeled every bit of that right now, because you weren’t a Winchester, not yet. You were a L/N and you would act like one.

“Dean.”

Dean’s changes were much more subtle. And, they seemed to all bounce off of you. Whether it was intentional or not, Dean always seemed to be a constant in your life. Much like other adults. It was difficult to change their minds or their hearts, but he always took one look at you and saw who he needed to be. And that’s how you knew you could count on him. So, when you straightened your back and looked him in the eye, maybe he was disappointed that you were so serious, or maybe he was glad. But he did the same, and treated you like an adult. With respect.

“I apologize for the scene I caused in the kitchen. I wasn’t in my right mind, but it’s not fair for me to freak out in front of your family and bail and of course I understand that you didn’t mean to put me in a bad position.”

Not a bad place to start, and Dean considered it reasonably.

“You have nothing to apologize for, but I appreciate it, Y/N. I’m sorry I put you on the spot like that… I’m sorry for a lot of things.

He sighed so forcefully you could feel it brush past the hair in front of your face.

“Y/N. I wish I could do something. I wish I could explain it all away. Set things right. I wish I could have been there, and answered your call, and given you a warm and loving place to grieve your mom, but I can’t. So, please… just give me a start. How do I make this better? Because I’ll try until I do, but it won’t happen at the push of a button.”

Your head bounced. “We could start with, where were you? I could, and almost have, told you every move I made the past four months. But you have told me next to nothing.”

He shrugged and you saw him struggling to swallow a lump in his throat, but he did.

“I was… Y/N, you know how difficult my job is sometimes. I wish I could return the favor and tell you everything that I have done, but in all honesty? I don’t even remember most of it.”

You raised an eyebrow and waited patiently. You were going to get more than that.

“I was possessed.” He admitted. “By an angel. I was possessed a few days before your mother’s death and I only got free a week ago. I tried to find you as soon as I got back, but of course you were long gone by then. And then you called me.”

You looked down at your dad’s hand, lying loosely at his side. Your teeth surrounded your lip and bit down hard. The issue was, this was not the answer you wanted to hear. But you had to take it because you knew your father wasn’t lying.

“Okay. Thank you for telling me.”

You made to walk away, but he pulled you into a hug. It wasn’t warm and relaxing, but you could appreciate the gesture.

“Hey!” Sam called. “You found her!”

The two of you pulled away as he approached.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Y/N. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

You nodded, and Dean turned away almost instantly. “Alright, I’ll leave you two alone.”

Both you and Sam could tell by his voice and sudden cold attitude that he was hurt, but you simply replied, “Goodbye Dean,” as he walked down the hallway and out of sight.

“Why do you call him that?”

“What?”

“Dean. You call him Dean.”

You paused as you faced Sam once again. “That’s his name, is it not?”

Sam chuckled somewhat to himself. “Yeah. But he’s your father. We would have never called our father by his name.”

“Well, I doubt you would have called him dad either.”

Sam grimaced and you felt bad, realizing you had struck a nerve. You looked down at the floor, trying to come up with how to explain this to him. It was something you had thought about a lot, but Sam didn’t fully understand your relationship with your dad.

“When I first met Dean… I was nine. And I was so happy to meet the man I had been dreaming of all my life. But i was also wary of him. So, he took me out for ice cream and asked me a lot of questions: what did I like to do? What was my favorite food? Who were my best friends? And I asked him a lot in return. And one of my questions was what did he want me to call him. And he told me… ‘I’d love for you to call me dad, Y/N. I really want to be your father. But I understand I haven’t really earned that yet. So why don’t you start by calling me Dean, okay? And you can call me dad when you’re ready… baby steps,’ he called it. ‘We’ll take baby steps.’”

Sam nodded in understanding and you were glad to see him smile. “That’s… that’s nice. But it’s been seven years. Are you still not comfortable to call him dad yet?”

“I have. In the past I have, but not after what just happened… He explained to me that it wasn’t his fault, but four months is a long time no matter what. So, we’ll have to work our way back up to dad.”

Sam’s eyes rounded out into full moons. “Y/N… I’m so sorry. I never really thought about it like that. I never saw your relationship with Dean before all this so I… I didn’t see how much it’s changed. I hope living here isn’t too bad.”

The corners of your mouth lifted. “Not at all. Now, what did you want to talk to me about?”

His face brightened. “Oh yeah. Mom and I… sorry. My mom, Mary, and I wanted to take your out shopping tomorrow. We know you didn’t bring any clothes with you, so we decided to spend some time with you and buy you a new wardrobe. Sound good?”

“Sounds great.”


	8. Chapter 8

“So, where exactly are we going?” you asked the silent car.

“A nearby mall,” Mary explained. “We’ll get you everything you need. Clothes, makeup and hair supplies, toiletries… and anything else. Most of the stuff here can be shared by everyone, but you probably want some of your own stuff, right?”

You shrugged. “It would be nice.”

She smiled. “Perfect. We’re almost there.”

You hesitated to speak again, but Sam beat you to it.

“So, Y/N, we wanted to do this as a fun way to get to know you better. Just, be warned, lots of questions will be asked. Do you have any questions you want to ask us, for starters?”

You opened your mouth to respond negatively, but something came to mind. “What should I call you guys?”

Mary looked confused, but Sam just nodded, contemplating his answer.

“Y/N, honey, you can call us whatever you’d like,” Mary explained.

Sam agreed, then said, “If ‘uncle Sam’ and ‘grandma’ are weird for you, just Sam and Mary will be fine.”

You nodded slightly. “I’d prefer Sam and Mary.”

They both agreed, still facing the road ahead.

Sam pulled into the mall parking lot and suddenly, your day had begun.

~ ~ ~

Sam listed things off on his fingers. “We got you new clothing. Hair and makeup… stuff. A toothbrush. We’ll stop by the grocery store on the way home and grab you some food… Am I missing something?”

Mary shook her head, her mouth too full to speak. The three of you had stopped for a lunch break and were sitting around a circular table, eating chinese food.

“I can’t think of anything,” you responded.

“Great! Then let’s go to the store and head back.” He jumped up ready to leave, but Mary protested, mouth still full.

“Mm, mmmm,” was all she could make out.

Sam rolled his eyes, glancing at you. “Nevermind, let’s give her a minute.”

You agreed, settling back into your chair.

“So, Y/N… I know we’ve asked you a lot of basic questions today, but you haven’t really talked about your most recent life. Like, you told us about your mom and your hometown, but not much about after you met Dean.”

Your eyebrows raised and you could see Sam noting the reaction. It’s not that you were avoiding talking about Dean, but it was very strange to you that his family couldn’t guess what he was like. Ever since you showed up, you were surprised by their curiosity about his parenting skills.

“Not much to tell. Dean taught me about monsters and stuff. He taught me how to shoot a gun. He gave me my motorcycle… but most of my life was the same. I just had a bit of an adventure to look forward to on my birthday.”

Sam accepted the answer with ease and Mary finished off the last of her food. “Alright. I think we can head out now that- Hold on. Did you say he bought you a motorcycle?”

A grin crossed your face.

~ ~ ~

“What is this?” Dean asked.

He decided to help you put away the bags of stuff you had bought that morning. While you sorted clothes, he was actively shaming every hair and skin product you had asked him to put on the vanity you had set up.

Wasn’t much of a vanity, just a simply desk in the corner of the room that Sam had nailed a mirror above, but you were really liking it.

You leaned over Dean’s shoulder to see what he was looking at. “It’s rose water.”

“What’s it for? Is it expensive??”

You rolled your eyes, then shrugged. “It’s for makeup, mostly. It’s a toner.”

He scoffed. “Hunters don’t need to wear-.” He froze. You noticed his eyes were wide, staring straight at the bottle.

“So I’m a hunter now?” you questioned.

He shook his head quickly and turned to face you. “I don’t- It’s just because I was talking to Cas and Bobby and they seem to think… It’s your choice whether or not you want to go out hunting with us, but they think you should at least get some more lessons on how to defend yourself… I never wanted you to become a hunter, Y/N. Neither did your mother, but I don’t think keeping you on house arrest is much better. And the bunker isn’t the safest place in the world. You should be ready.” He waited for a response but you had to contemplate it for a while. “You don’t have to decide right away. Maybe you could watch some of Jack and Bobby’s training sessions first and then decide if…?”

You waved the thought aside. “Tell Bobby I’d be happy to join him and Jack for their lesson tomorrow morning. Better get started right away if I want to get out into the field soon, right?”

You smirked and grabbed the spray bottle from Dean’s hands before setting it down on the vanity.

“And for the record: Mary’s a hunter, and she wears makeup everyday.”

~ ~ ~

For the next two weeks, your life was training. You’d wake up every morning at 6:30, eat breakfast with Jack, then meet Bobby in the training room at 7. Often times he’d hold your lessons together, teaching you the same thing. But some days, like today, he’d split you up and teach you what you need work on. Jack was surprisingly very aggressive, which made him better at hand to hand combat, but you were a much better shot. Bobby tried to work with you on agility and your upper body strength, but you had terrible balance, which made close up fighting difficult.

As you were leaving the practice room that day for lunch, you rubbed your arm. It was sore after you had fallen on it, and you knew it would probably bruise tomorrow.

“Hey Y/N,” Dean said, before you had even entered the kitchen.

“Hey.”

You walked over to the fridge and pulled out a water.

“You just come back from training?” he asked.

You nodded, gulping down as much water as possible.

“That’s good.” He sat down at the counter and opened his laptop. “I’m looking for cases right now. Want to help?”

Your face scrunched up. “Why would you want my help?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I just figured if you were going to come along on a case, you’d want to choose it.”

You almost dropped your water bottle. “You’re taking me out on a case?”

You almost started jumping for joy, and he seemed to notice because he chuckled, “Sam’s coming with. It won’t be just us.”

“That’s fine,” you responded immediately.

A smile was growing over your face at a rapid rate and you ran over to sit next to your dad.

“So, how do we look for a case?” You eagerly stared over at his screen.

As he explained how him and his brother find monsters you watched intently. You wanted to be sure to learn all that you could about this process.

“Huh.” He stopped and you turned to find him staring at your head.

“What?” you questioned.

“Nothing, it’s just… your forehead. That cut you got after your crash left a scar. I… I didn’t notice it.”

Your fingers lightly brushed over what he was talking about. “Yeah. I didn’t think it was that obvious.”

He shook his head. “Nah. I just didn’t realize.” He turned back to the computer, but hesitated a second longer. “I think it makes you look more badass.”

You snorted. “Great. I’m starting to be a real Winchester.”

He nodded. “You were always a real Winchester.”


	9. Chapter 9

“Salt and burn?” Sam asked, as you followed the brothers to the impala.

 

“Yes, Sammy. Salt and burn.” Dean sauntered ahead of the group towards his car. You were thinking that he seemed highly optimistic about this easy case, but Sam quickly dismissed the thought.

 

“He’s nervous,” Sam murmured next to you.

 

You raised an eyebrow. “How can you tell?” Everything about his posture and attitude screamed relaxed to you.

 

“He  _ hates _ ‘salt and burn’ cases,” Sam confided. “Finds them too simple, not enough action required.”

 

“He didn’t want me doing something too difficult on my first case,” you admitted. You didn’t like it, but in all honesty, you were probably more nervous than anyone else in the group.

 

Sam shook his head. “I get that, but he would still be complaining about it, I would think. He’s using this energy right now to hide his nerves.” Sam chuckled, another thought crossing his mind. “Maybe he’s not so scared you’ll get hurt as he is that you won’t like hunting.”

 

“That doesn’t add up. Dean doesn’t want me to be a hunter.”

 

A look of confusion crossed Sam’s face. “What do you mean? He thought you’d be an amazing hunter.”

 

By the time Sam had said that, the two of you had caught up with Dean. But it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. The comment had left you speechless.

 

“Alright Y/N, why don’t you throw your bag in the back and then climb into the backseat?”

 

You just nodded.

 

~ ~ ~

 

The hunt went well. It took the three of you two days to finish it up, and it proved to be fairly simple.

 

You were slightly disappointed that you didn’t get to do much in the way of fighting. The most danger you were in was standing within a salt circle with Sam, an iron bar in your hands. You caught glimpse of the ghost a few times before Dean burned her bones, but she never approached you.

 

You got to sit in the passenger’s seat on the way back to the bunker, because Sam had pulled an all nighter to research for the group, so he was getting some much needed rest in the backseat.

 

“Hey Dean?” you piped up from his side.

 

“What’s up?” he asked. “Did you have fun?” he continued, more eagerly.

 

“Uh… yeah,” you responded. And you did. But, his excitement basically confirmed Sam’s comment before you could ask Dean yourself. “But, Dean… I was talking to Sam earlier and he said that you… He told me you thought I’d make a good hunter.”

 

“What?” Dean’s voice sounded false and defensive. “When did he say that?”

 

You shook your head. “Nevermind. Forget I said anything.”

 

Dean struggled to amend what he had just done. “No! I wasn’t trying to invalidate… I just wondered when he told you this, because I-”

 

“Did you say it?” you insisted.

 

He was quiet a beat longer. “Would you be mad if I did?”

 

“No.” You were frustrated that it was so difficult to communicate with your dad. “I just… that’s not what you told me. And I want to know the truth.”

 

You could see his jaw tighten, but what he said was honest. “I… You would be a good hunter- You  _ are  _ a good hunter! I didn’t want to- I wasn’t trying to lie to you or make you feel like you wouldn’t be when I said that I didn’t want you to be one. I just… Y/N you know that your mother didn’t want this for you. That’s why she told me I could only come once a year and I-”

 

“She told you you could only come on my birthdays?” Your voice shook slightly as you said it. It wasn’t like you were upset, but it felt like a child slowly starting to suspect that Santa isn’t real. You want to hold to the fact that he is, and to keep the magic for a little while longer, but no matter how strong your proof is, you just know better.

 

“Yeah.” Dean’s voice was soft. “She never told you?”

 

You shook your head. You weren’t mad at your mom. You were well aware of the way your mom felt about your dad. But you had tried holding so much against Dean, and slowly you were starting to see why he did the things he did. You began to see how hard he tried to be a good father.

 

“Y/N, I would have come to visit you everyday if I could. I wanted to. I was always thinking about fun things we could do together, wishing I could just pick you up and take you to a fun new movie I had heard about, or out on a roadtrip to some diner I went to in Texas, because I knew you’d love their food. But your mom, she thought more contact with me would put you in danger, which was probably true. So, I stayed away. And I didn’t tell anyone about you.”

 

That comment did catch you off guard. “Wait. She told you not to tell anyone I existed?”

 

Dean sighed. “She didn’t want anyone else to meet you. She wanted you as far away from my life as possible. The only reason she found me and told me about you was because she thought you deserved to know who your dad was. It was too hard for her to keep it a secret anymore.”

 

That you had known. Your mother was always very vague when talking about your dad, and as a kid you had accepted it, but you had begun to get more demanding as you grew up. She didn’t think you were old enough for her to explain to you that you were created out of a one night stand that ended very quickly after she learned that Dean was a monster-demon fighter.

 

She contacted Dean out of the blue when she decided she had had enough with the dilemma. But she made it very clear to you that she didn’t like your dad. Over time, you had thought that they started to be friends… I mean, she had  _ asked  _ Dean to teach you some self defense, but obviously she still had a lot of restrictions on your interactions with your father that you hadn’t known about.

 

“I told you that I didn’t want you to be a hunter because I knew your mother would forever curse me from her grave if you were. I don’t want to let her down… or you. It’s your right to decide what you want to do, but if something were to happen to you on my watch I’d never forgive myself.”

 

You shot a small smile at your dad. “If something were to happen to me, it wouldn’t be your fault. Not unless you pulled the trigger. I could never blame anyone for my death except the person holding the gun.”

 

His mood seemed to dip after that comment. You wondered if it was possibly just the thought of you dying before him that caused it, but you didn’t ask.

 

“This is a dangerous job,” Dean tried once again. “You really don’t have to be a part of it if you don’t want.”

 

“But you want me to be a part of it.” You paused, thinking he would argue, but he didn’t. “Sam wants me to be a part of it.”

 

“Yes, I do,” Sam mumbled from the backseat, worrying you about how long he was awake for the conversation.

 

“I want to be a part of it,” you confided. “So, no matter how dangerous it is, if this life is one of my options, I choose it.”

 

You waited quietly for a response from Dean. You were almost worried that he wasn’t going to give you one, but he did.

 

Silently, he reached over, putting his right hand over one of yours, squeezing it. “I love you, kiddo.”

 

“I love you too, Dean.”

 

~ ~ ~

 

After that, there was no doubt that you were going to be a hunter. You were determined to be the best hunter of your family (a scarily high standard) so, you trained all the time. Your father took you out on a couple more hunts after the first, all of which were fairly simple and you were dying for more of a challenge. You wanted a chance to prove yourself as not just a good help when they needed another hunter, but an asset.

 

You thought that maybe after you turned seventeen you would get the chance, but three days had passed since your birthday, and Dean still refused to take you out on another hunt. You kept searching for them, pointing out anything you thought might be worth a look into, but he insisted on waiting a little bit longer.

 

You couldn’t understand why until that afternoon… 

 

“I hate surprises.”

 

Your eyes were closed, although that was almost pointless, because the blindfold over your eyes was doing its job well. Sam and Dean were each holding an arm to guide you through the bunker and by now you had forgotten who was on what side.

 

“I know you do,” Dean confessed, “but this had to be a surprise.”

 

You gave a loud, exasperated sigh. This did nothing to slow down the brothers on their plan.

 

You had been a bit shocked when you and your father didn’t do anything to celebrate your birthday. You weren’t expecting an amazing gift like last year, but the two of you always did something together, whether it was eating out or going bowling. You missed that.

 

“Okay. We’re here.”

 

You had walked into a dark room, but after a moment, you could see and hear the lights turn on from behind the cloth over your eyes.

 

“Ready?” Sam asked.

 

Your head bounced up and down and you could feel him loosening the tie behind your head.

 

As your eyes adjusted, you were startled to find yourself in the garage of the bunker.

 

“So, what do you think?” your dad asked.

 

That’s when you saw it. In the center of the room was a used, black motorcycle.

 

Your eyes widened. “No way.”

 

He chuckled. “It’s a bit worn down, like your last one was, but it’s a nicer model. And I took it for a test drive and it runs pretty good.”

 

You couldn’t find the words, so you walked forward to take a good look. On the seat was a sleak, black helmet, which you picked up and tossed around in your hands. Then, you leaned down next to the bike itself.

 

There were a couple of scratches, but nothing too noticeable. And your dad was right, it was significantly newer than your last one.

 

“Do you like it?” Dean asked. “I’m sorry. I wanted to get a new one, but they’re so expensive. Sam helped me pick this one out and it’s good. I just felt bad that you have to sit in the back of the impala and I know you missed your old bike-”

 

In the midst of his rambling, he didn’t seem to notice you approaching, so he was cut off when you threw your arms around his shoulders.

 

“It’s perfect. Thank you so much, Dad.”

 

You hadn’t really realized you had done it, but he certainly did. His head shot to Sam, as if to confirm he had heard you right. Then, relaxing into the hug, he wrapped his arms around you and chuckled.

 

“No worries, kiddo.”

 


	10. Chapter 10

You were startled back into consciousness by the sound of keys hitting the table next to you. You had been slowly drifting off to sleep in the war room when Dean approached with the keys to your motorcycle. Heaven knows where he found them, because it was a miracle that you hadn’t lost them for good yet. But obviously he had come across them somewhere and knew you would need them.

 

“Hey kiddo.” He smiled as you blinked up at him. You tried to play off how tired you were, but there was no way he couldn’t see it clearly. “You good?”

 

You shrugged off the question, reaching for the keys he had left you. “You got a case?”

 

He bit his lip. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want. You seem pretty tired.”

 

He was right. You were fairly exhausted. You spent basically all of your time training or out on hunts and when you did grant time to yourself, you never caught up on lost sleep like you should. There was always something else you wanted to be doing.

 

You shook your head. “Not at all. Now, what kind of case are we talking about?”

 

“Supposed vampire nest,” he admitted. “Might be a bit more difficult than what you’re used to, but I figured you were up for the challenge.”

 

You grinned. “Always.”

 

You weren’t entirely sure how Dean felt nowadays. He was glad you were a hunter and happy to take you out on hunts, but he seemed… worried about you.

 

You could kind of understand that, but when you told him you were fine and he smiled at you sadly… you just didn’t know anymore. Did he even want you to be a hunter?

 

“Why don’t you grab some clothes and stuff and we’ll get on the road in an hour?”

 

You agreed, grabbing your keys and walking towards your room.

 

~ ~ ~

 

“Hey Sam,” you sung as you approached the impala. “Where’s Dean?”

 

Sam glanced up at you and, without a word, took the duffel bag from your shoulder and put it in the back of the car with the rest of the bags. “He went back in for something. He’ll be out in a second.”

 

You nodded. “Thanks.”

 

You appreciated Sam for his calm demeanor. Even as he was packing up the car to go, he made you feel relaxed and peaceful.

 

“There’s Dean,” he nodded with a smile towards your father. Then, he strangely got into the car and shut the door, not saying a word to his brother beforehand.

 

That move sent alarm bells ringing in your head and you whipped around to face Dean, who was holding something, concealed, in his hand.

 

“Y/N! Good, I wanted to talk to you.”

 

You raised an eyebrow, your eyes shifting between his occupied hand and his nervous face. “Yeah?”

 

His eyes also glanced down at his hand, shifting the item around to give you a clear view of it. “This is… uh, Sam suggested it. It’s a sleep aid. I figured you might want to take it, because I know you haven’t gotten much sleep recently. Which is totally fine, I completely understand. However, my methods of dealing with insomnia are a bit more unconventional and I want to make sure you’re healthy and prepared while we’re hunting, so I’d appreciate it if you tried this. Maybe tonight when we get to the motel?”

 

You looked at the small bottle he was holding. You had seen the brand before. Just something small to help you get back on track. You smiled at your dad.

 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

 

He was taken aback by the comment. “Y/N, you don’t have to be sorry for anything, kiddo. I just want to make sure that you’re safe… and that you don’t become an alcoholic when you’re older,” he joked.

 

It was your turn to be surprised. “That’s your unconventional method? To drink yourself to sleep?”

 

“Well…” he smiled at you. “Not anymore. What kind of terrible example would I be setting?”

 

Dean wasn’t the sweetest father. In fact, there were times he was downright scary. It was hard to live with someone as emotionally conflicted as him, having to read his moods all the time. But he cared. He really did care. So, that’s why you took the bottle and said, “I’ll put this with my stuff then.”

 

~ ~ ~

 

Your dad was going to be mad. You knew it from the get-go. But… it wasn’t a nest. Or at least, if it was, everyone was gone, because this vamp had just walked into an empty house. You were sure it was empty.

 

So, you texted your dad the address like you promised. But, despite that, you didn’t wait for them to show up before walking in.

 

Sam and Dean had left to question the families of those who had died. Sadly, it was really hard for them to take you along for that, because you couldn’t pull off being an FBI agent like they could. And intern/daughter was a weak excuse. So, Dean had asked you a sweep of the town for possible nests. You had been lurking outside this building for a while now, and everything about it screamed vampire hangout, but it was empty… and in the daytime.

 

Since vampires were nocturnal, you thought they’d all be in there, but nothing. You were just about to leave, when a man showed up and walked straight into the house, leaving you no doubt that something fishy was going on.

 

You pulled the weapon your father had given you from your jacket. It was a long, thin blade, kind of like a sword. It was very different from the machetes your dad and Sam carried.

 

Quickly scanning the entry room, you determined he wasn’t in there. You silently debated heading straight upstairs or searching ground level first, when a small crash shook the floor from above. You took the stairs two at a time, knowing full well that the vamp had probably already sensed you, and knew you were coming.

 

You approached the door on your right, assuming that’s where the sound had come from. You tried the door, but it was locked. Sighing, you attempted to kick it in as you had watched Dean do many times.

 

It took a couple of tries, but eventually the door swung open, revealing the vamp. He turned swiftly, lunging for you, but without a weapon the battle was unevenly matched. You swiped your knife towards him and cleanly cut off his head.

 

You took a deep breath. There was a rush that came with the fact that you had just killed your first vampire, not to mention by yourself. Then, your eyes drifted around the room. To the right was a turned over table, presumably the source of the loud crash. And to the left…

 

You almost jumped at the sight of him. A boy sat on the floor. His arms were tied to the grate in front of a fireplace and his feet were practically touching the poot of blood that came from the dead vampire. He whimpered when he noticed your eyes focus on him.

 

There was a rumbling noise outside that you could identify as your father’s car. Two seconds later, the front door swung open and your uncle shouted, “Y/N!”

 

“Upstairs!” you called back.

 

“Y/N, you better be okay!” Dean followed soon after.

 

They stomped up the stairs and ran in, Sam holding a gun, and Dean, his machete. They looked around for some sort of danger, but only found a body.

 

“Y/N,” Dean grumbled, dropping his weapon to his side. “What were you thinking? I told you to find the nest and then wait for us to make a plan.”

 

“Uh Dean…” Sam started.

 

“What if there were more? Nests are so dangerous. There could have been-”

 

“Dean,” you insisted, interrupting him. “Hostage.”

 

His eyebrows inched together in confusion, and then, realizing what you had said, flipped around.

 

Sam and Dean stood over the boy, arms crossed. He shook slightly under their gaze causing pity to creep into your head.

 

“Huh,” Dean said. “He looks like he’s about your age, Y/N.”

 

“What should we do with him?” Sam asked.

 

After a minute of silence, you pushed through them and approached the boy. His eyes were wide, but he didn’t look quite as nervous when you kneeled down beside him.

 

“Hey there. My name’s Y/N.” You reached for his shackled hands and began to untie them. “What’s your name?”

 

His voice was hoarse and timid. “Paul,” he responded.

 

You gave him a small smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Paul. ‘Old yeller’ to my right is my father, Dean. And the tall guy on my left is my uncle, Sam. We’re here to help, I promise.”

 

He nodded, but you could tell he wasn’t convinced.

 

You helped him slip one hand out of the ties. “How long have you been here? We haven’t heard about any missing reports for you.”

 

He shrugged for a moment, then sighed. “You wouldn’t have. At least, not for a kidnapping. I was running away from home when they caught me. It’s been a couple of days.”

 

You nodded in understanding as the rope loosened, freeing him. “Alright. Can you stand?”

 

He pushed himself off the ground. He was a little shaky, but seemed otherwise alright.

 

Dean stepped up. “‘Kay. We’ll clean you up, ask you a few questions, then take you to the bus stop. Sound good, kid?”

 

As soon as he agreed, Dean reached out and grabbed one of his arms. The gesture might have seemed helpful or caring, if you didn’t know your father. He was just ensuring Paul didn’t run away.

 

The four of you walked back downstairs and out of the house, stopping in front of Dean’s car.

 

“Here you are.” Dean guided him into the backseat.

 

You handed Sam your bloody blade, while Dean shut the door. “Take this.”

 

He nodded, throwing it in the trunk and Dean turned to face you. “Old yeller?”

 

You laughed slightly.

 

“Okay,” Sam interrupted as he came back. “What do we do with him?”

 

“We can’t just let him go,” Dean agreed. “He has plenty of open wounds, he could have been turned.”

 

“So, we take him back to the motel,” you offered. “Question him and clean him up, like you promised. He can’t hide his signs for that long, especially if he’s newly turned. Once we’re sure he’s fine, we can let him go.”

 

“And if he’s not?” Dean asked. “We’ll have to kill him Y/N.”

 

You knew what Dean was suggesting, so you shrugged. “I know.”

 

You went to get on your bike, but he stopped you again.

 

“Y/N, you have to be ready in the case that we have to kill him.”

 

You brushed past him and continued on. “I know.”

 


	11. Chapter 11

Dean guided Paul out of the impala the same way he ushered him in, surveying him like a cat ready to pounce, but his firm hand on the boys shoulder gave off a feeling of polite guidance.

 

You opened up the door of the motel room for them, Dean walking the boy inside while Sam took up the rear. Once the door was shut, Dean let go and walked past Paul, who was unsure what to do except stand in the center of the room. Sam tried to smile reassuringly at him and nodded to the small table.

 

“You can have a seat if you want,” he offered. “We’re going to do a quick assessment of your wounds and then you can take a shower and get clean before we bombard you with questions.”

 

He nodded, still unsure of how to react in this situation, so you stepped up to help him. You pulled out a chair for him and then grabbed your own, setting it across from him. You assessed the damage. He had a bloody nose, but it didn’t look broken, his cheek was purpling, and his left shoulder was covered in blood and the shirt was torn, indicating that he was bitten. But, that didn’t definitively say he had been turned yet, so you had hope.

 

Dean walked out of the bathroom, a soaked washcloth in his hand. He didn’t say anything, just dropped it into your lap and took a look at the boy.

 

“What hurts?” he asked, his voice serious.

 

The boy bit down on his lip and you could tell he was scared of Dean. You were well aware that Dean could be quite frightening, but as Paul struggled to find his words, you had to bite back a laugh.

 

“My… face? I don’t know. They punched me a couple of times and it aches.”

 

Dean nodded. “That  _ would  _ make sense,” he responded sarcastically. You smacked his arm.

 

“And… Well, my left shoulder is sore, but it doesn’t sting that much anymore. Also, I landed on my arm funny, and it kind of hurts.”

 

Dean knelt down next to the boys chair and put a hand out. “Let me see it.”

 

Paul glanced at you nervously, before giving your dad his arm.

 

Dean looked at it. “Not broken, that’s for sure.” He began to move his hand up Paul’s arm, squeezing gently. “Does it hurt when I do that?”

 

Paul shrugged halfheartedly. “Not more than usual? It just kind of… throbs? Constantly?”

 

“How about when I do this?” Dean started to guide his wrist in circular motions.

 

Paul’s face tightened immediately and he nodded.

 

Dean let go. “It’s probably sprained. We’ll put ice on it and your cheek so that hopefully it doesn’t swell too much. Other than that, they’ll most likely heal in a few weeks. Just try not to do anything that will agitate your wrist.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

Dean put his hand briefly on your shoulder before saying, “I’ll get you that ice. Y/N, you stay here with Sam and help clean up his face.”

 

You picked up the towel in your lap and lifted it to his upper lip, trying to wash away the dried bloody path underneath his nose. Paul’s eye wandered while you did this, obviously not comfortable looking you in the eyes just yet.

 

Sam sat down on one of the beds behind you and cleared his throat. “So, how old are you, Paul?”

 

“I thought you weren’t doing the questioning until after I got washed up?” he joked. You started to readjust his shirt so that you could get to the mess on his shoulder. “I’m sixteen-”

 

He hissed suddenly, as you pulled bloody scraps of tshirt off his shoulder. You were about to apologize when something hit you. “This is  _ fresh _ .” His eyes widened at your sudden change of tone. “When did he bite you?”

 

Paul’s mouth opened and closed, trying to explain. “He just… it was like, right before you came in. That’s why he knocked over the table.”

 

Your mind flashed back to the loud crash you had heard when you entered. “What is ‘why he knocked over the table’?”

 

He looked to Sam for help, but Sam’s confusion mirrored your own.

 

“I think he knew… that people were after him. He ran in and started to bite me, but he barely pierced the skin before he sensed you walk in. At least, I think that’s what happened. He pulled away from me quickly, trying to wipe the blood from his mouth and he ran into the table and knocked it on its side. And that’s when I heard you running up the stairs.”

 

You shot him a reassuring smile right before Dean stumbled into the room, ice in hand.

 

~ ~ ~

 

You sat next to Sam on the motel bed, your back to his arm. You were flipping through a book while Dean questioned Paul. You listened to bits and pieces, but you knew Dean was just trying to stall for time.

 

“Had you ever met any of the people who abducted you before?”

 

“No.”   
  


“Now, I have an important question. Did they make you drink anything while you were there? Blood, especially?”

 

“No!” Sam shifted behind you and you glanced up as well.

 

Paul’s face was tense. You caught him glancing at you, almost for help, but you weren’t exactly jumping to save him.

 

“Is that…” Paul spoke up again. “Is that how they turn you into one of them? You have to drink their blood?”

 

Dean turned around and exchanged a look with Sam before saying, “Yes.”

 

Paul's face shone with relief. "Oh thank god... So, I'm safe?"

 

Dean looked back once again, unsure how to respond to that. 

 

You stood up, dropping your book on the bed. "What do you mean, Paul?"

 

"I thought... I thought you were going to kill me. Being... vampire hunters and all. I was so scared that you guys were just waiting for the right moment to-"

 

"We're not vampire hunters," Dean grumbled over Paul.

 

"Well, whatever you are. I thought that perhaps you were being nice to... I don't know, make my last few minutes enjoyable? But, I might not be a vampire? You guys think I could really be okay?"

 

You were struck suddenly at how brave a person Paul was. Here he was: listening to you and the brothers, letting you guys ask him questions and clean him up, and he truly thought that in the end, you would kill him. Not a single tear had come out of him. Of course he had seemed nervous the whole time, but he wasn't begging for his life or trying to run. He even was doing his best to help you guys figure things out.

 

"Paul... we want you to be okay. That's why we've brought you here. If you show no signs of being turned, we'll let you go. Happily. And even if you do show signs... there's a chance we can save you. There's a way to turn people back," Sam reassured him.

 

"That's if he drank the blood of the vamp Y/N killed.  _ And _ if he doesn't attack someone first." Dean was really suspicious. You made a mental note to ask him what his problem was later.

 

Paul's spirits seemed just a little dashed, but he was so much lighter looking than a few moments ago. "I didn't drink anything. I promise," he confirmed. "But I'll stay here as long as you need."

 

You nodded. "Good. A couple more hours, and you'll be free to go."

 

~ ~ ~

 

Paul was perfectly fine by the time he should have reacted. He didn't seem off or strange at all. Dean even had him show off his gums to ensure that he hadn't been a vamp this whole time, but nothing. No teeth, no headaches, no weird attitude. Just a normal kid.

 

"Where should we drop you off, kid?" Dean asked, throwing on a jacket. It was clear that he wanted to get him out of there.

 

"Um... actually, I was thinking about staying here. Not with you guys, of course, but I have enough money for my own room for a couple of nights. I'd just appreciate being around while I recover, because you guys know a lot more about injuries than I do. Not to mention I was already suspicious traveling alone when I didn't look like I just got mugged. It's probably better for me to rest here."

 

Dean was almost speechless with his frustration.

 

Sam noticed the tension, same as you and tried to help out. "Uh Paul? I don't know about that. We're only staying long enough to find the rest of the nest... if they're even still in town. We really can't help much after what we've done. We're not doctors. And the nest is probably looking for you. I think it's best for you to get the hell out of dodge."

 

"Wouldn't I be safer with you guys?" he countered. "And I could be useful! As you said, the other vampires are probably looking for me. You could use me as bait!"

 

Sam shook his head rapidly. "Definitely not. You're just a kid and you have no hunters training."

 

"Hunters training? Why would I need to know how to hunt-?"

 

"That's what we're called," you explained to him. "The three of us are hunters. Not of deer or birds, but of... monsters."

 

Paul chuckled slightly. "That's cool."

 

"But it takes years to become a hunter." Sam tried to pull him back on track. "We can't teach you to protect yourself. So, it's better if you just stay away."

 

"Just a couple of days," Paul pleaded.

 

Dean finally spoke up once again. "Do whatever you want kid. It's your life to lose."

 

Paul was obviously a bit uncomfortable with the comment, but shook it off and left to get a room for himself.

 

"You should leave him alone," you muttered to your dad. "He's been through a lot already."

 

"I don't want to be stuck playing babysitter," Dean growled.

 

"You don't have to. He seems to be pretty alright on his own. I'm sure he'll be fine. And I'll look out for him."

 

Dean flinched. "That's worse. I don't want you hanging around him."

 

"Why not?"

 

"He ran away from home! He seems fairly sketchy to me."

 

You rolled your eyes. "This is your protective dad thing, right?"

 

He scoffed. "My what?"

 

"Forget it-" you started to say, but he was really upset now.

 

"No, are you saying I  _ should _ be protective? Why? Is there something going on between you two?"

 

"Dad, I met him  _ literally _ 30 seconds before you did. What could possibly be going on between us?"

 

"You tell me," he challenged. "You're being awfully nice to him for a stranger."

 

You looked at Sam, opened mouthed, to find him silently cracking up at the conversation.

 

"What is going on?" you cried. "Why am I the bad guy here? I'm just doing my job.  _ Our _ job."

 

It seemed like Dean was calming down a bit, because all he did was grumble, "Don't push it," before storming out of the room.

  
" _ Sam? _ " You struggled for him to back you up on the issue, but as soon as the door closed behind Dean, he lost it, laughing hysterically.


	12. Chapter 12

"Thanks for letting me stay."

 

You shrugged. You weren't really paying much attention to Paul at the moment. Sam had asked you to accompany him to the store, so that he could get some food for the next few days. Dean was quick to object, but Sam insisted they had work to do and forced you to go.

 

You were on high alert for any possible vamps, as well as focusing on your father's strange attitude.

 

"It wasn't my call," you muttered.

 

"You're scary, you know?"

 

You were dumbfounded by the comment and paused. " _ I’m _ scary? I mean, I could see you saying that about my dad, definitely, maybe Sam, but me? I saved you from them going all 'bad cop' on you. I'm the _ nice _ one!"

 

He tried to explain himself while you continued walking.

 

"That's not what I- I just mean... look at yourself! You're 17? And you've killed vampires. I swear, you set yourself up to impossible standards-"

 

"What standards?"

 

"Your dad," he fired back. "The world famous monster hunter. You idolize him."

 

You scoffed. "I do  _ not  _ idolize Dean. Have you seen him? He's flawed beyond repair."

 

"Oh, so you want to be better than him. That's an even  _ higher  _ standard."

 

"That's not what I-" you cut yourself off. What was the point in arguing anyway? "Okay, we've walked around the store twice and you haven't picked up anything. Buy something to eat or starve the next couple of days."

 

"Like I said... scary."

 

You huffed, but something convinced you not to make another nasty comment. "I'm just homesick."

 

He nodded. "I, uh, get that feeling."

 

You smiled at him. "Paul, we can take you home if you'd like."

 

He tensed up immediately. "No. Never. I ran away for a reason."

 

You put your hands up in surrender. "No worries. I get the feeling of... wanting to get out, I guess."

 

"So, you guys are just going to kill the other three vamps and leave?" he changed the subject.

 

You sighed. "In this life, you do a lot of leaving."

 

~ ~ ~

 

"It looks like the third one vanished," Sam said, intently staring at what he had on his laptop.

 

"I just don't understand. Why leave the nest?" you questioned. "Either none leave or all leave, right?"

 

Sam shrugged. "Maybe out of fear? Maybe to get help?"

 

"Well then, we've got to kill the other two before they get back." Dean was pacing the room behind you and his brother.

 

"What if they do find help and bring it back after we left? The town is back in the same predicament they were in before... vampire infestation," you argued.

 

"Y/N, could you get Paul to confirm these people on the tape are the vamps that kidnapped him?"

 

"Sure."

 

As soon as you left the motel room, you could hear Dean start grumbling to Sam, but you ignored it. You jogged down a couple of rooms and knocked at Paul's door.

 

"Hey!" he exclaimed as he opened the door. "I need to talk to you."

 

You raised an eyebrow. "Alright, what about?"

 

"Come on in." He ushered you through the door.

 

"Oh, we have to go back to see Sam and Dean. They want you to identify some pictures we think we've got of the vamps."

 

"Why do you call your dad Dean?" he asked as he shut the door behind you.

 

You didn't like where this was going. He had dragged you into his motel room and started asking personal questions.

 

"It's complicated."

 

"Do you not like him or somethi-?"

 

"It's none of your damn business how I feel about my father," you blurted out.

 

He froze for a second, obviously not expecting such backlash, but a smile grew on his face.

 

"Y/N, I get it. Why do you think I ran away from home? Family can be difficult."

 

You looked him up and down. "I don't understand what you're saying."

 

You had grown to like Paul over these past few days, but you sure as hell didn't trust him yet.

 

"I'm saying... I think we're in the same boat here. We need out. We need to get away."

 

"I don't need-"

 

"Come with me," he blurted out.

 

You took in a sharp breath. He stared at you patiently while you tried to come up with something to say.

 

"Run away with you?"

 

"I know it's not... an ideal life," he explained. "But I've got money. And you can take your motorcycle."

 

"Take my motorcycle where, Paul? Where would we go?"

 

"Away. Far away. To anywhere you want to go."

 

You bit down on your bottom lip. "Paul, I'm sorry. But I think you're assuming way too much about my family and my life."

 

"You told me the other day that you wanted to get out!"

 

"That's not what I... meant. I used to want to get away. All the time. But I'm happy now. With my dad."

 

"But you weren't before?"

 

"I wasn't with my dad before!" You were getting worked up.  _ Frustrated _ . "I've done the whole living on the road thing. It's not exactly a glamorous life."

 

"But we can-"

 

"I don't want to talk about this anymore."

 

Paul looked heartbroken. "Y/N..."

 

"You are going to go talk to Sam to identify those vamps," you ordered. "My family is going to kill them for you and then, we're leaving. And you'll never see us again."

 

~ ~ ~

 

You expected Paul to be gone the next morning. Perhaps the morning after that. But he stayed.

 

You knew that he was going to try and talk to you. Convince you to go with him. But it was still hard. You dodged him at every opportunity. It got so bad that even your dad noticed you were avoiding him.

 

"Y/N, come talk to me," he said one morning.

 

This was it. What you were sure was going to be your last morning in town.

 

Sam was on the phone with the county sheriff, to confirm some details about the most recent victim while Dean was pulling out some weapons from the trunk.

 

"Yeah. What's up?"

 

"What happened between you and Paul?" Dean insisted.

 

Your whole body tensed. "Nothing happened between me and Paul."

 

"Oh, hell no." He shut the trunk and turned on you. "Don't start. As if I wouldn't notice. You're acting strange, and it all started right after you went to talk to him about identifying the vamps."

 

You shrugged, unsure of what to say. He was on to you, alright, but he had no clue what was going on.

 

"I'm almost worried about you, Y/N. If you refuse to tell me about it than it must be-"

 

" _ It’s not. _ .. as bad as you think. We talked about... something. I just don't particularly want to face him again."

 

"Talked about something? His feelings for you perhaps?"

 

You didn't flinch at the comment. "No. But, perhaps it's worse."

 

Dean knit his eyebrows together. "How so?"

 

Sam came out from the motel room, but didn't interrupt.

 

"He asked if I would-" your hands tensed up into fists "-run away with him."

 

He made a noise, as if choking. "I'm sorry. Run away? Like 'star crossed lovers', 'Romeo and Juliet' run away?"

 

"No!" you protested. "Well, maybe that's what he sees, but like: misfits. 'Live on the road', 'free from responsibility' run away. That's why he's here, remember? He ran away from home."

 

Sam spoke up from beside you two. "Why would he even ask you about that, Y/N?"

 

"He thinks I'm..." you trailed off, unsure how to put this in front of your dad.

 

"What?" Dean insisted.

 

"He seems to think that I'm unhappy. With my life and stuff."

 

"Are you?" Dean asked slowly.

 

"No," you insisted. And you meant it. You really did.

 

"Good." Dean looked at you for a moment, then made eye contact with his brother. There was very obviously some communication going on between them, but you couldn't tell what it was.

 

"Good," Dean repeated, then got into his car.


	13. Chapter 13

Sam made the plan very clear. After their last kill, one of the vamps had left a business card for a local bar. The sheriff had thought it was nothing, in fact, the bar had been abandoned a year ago, but Sam knew better.

 

“It’s the perfect hiding spot,” Sam explained. “No one’s about to go looking in there during the day while they sleep. And they’re gone at night, so if someone did look for trespassers, they’re gone.”

 

Because it was only two and it was morning, they would be asleep, so Sam figured Dean and him could handle it on their own, but he knew you wouldn’t just wait in the car. He forced you to walk around the back, to ensure that no one tried to escape that way.

 

You hated being set aside once again, but today you weren’t in the mood to argue with Sam, so you watched them slip inside and slowly made your way to the back.

 

The other side of the bar was an empty alley. As soon as you knew it was safe, you slipped the machete out of your jacket and dropped it to your right side. You figured there wasn’t much to do but wait there and see if someone ran out the door, but that was highly unlikely in your mind.

 

Sadly, checking for vamps anywhere  _ but _ the bar didn’t cross your mind either.

 

Before you could react, a man leapt from the building above you and knocked you to the ground. In an attempt to stop your fall, your right wrist hit the ground hard. You swung your blade up at the man, but before you could hit him, he got a hold of your wrist and was able to force the blade from your hand.

 

"Now then," he growled. "What were you planning on doing with that?"

 

Forcing you up, he shoved you inside the bar, making your way to the front, where your dad and Sam were just finishing off killing the two vamps you had sought out. Your wrist burned and your palms and elbows stung with scrapes you had gathered during your fall.

 

Sam noticed you first, his blade pointing directly at the vampire who had you by the shoulders.

 

"Uh, uh, uh," the vampire responded. "I'd put that down if I were you. Wouldn't want your dear little girl here to get hurt, would you?"

 

"Y/N?" Dean said, finally noticing your entrance.

 

"Hey there dad. I found that third vamp."

 

Your father almost immediately ran for the guy who had you by the shoulders. Doing your best to help, you swung your arm back and elbowed him in the side. This only proved somewhat effective, as he recoiled, but didn't let go of you. You struggled to get free right as Dean swung at the vamp.

 

In a split second, the man threw you at your father in an act of self defense, then turned and ran for it.

 

You stumbled, trying desperately to get out of Dean's way, but you were too late. His machete rammed itself into your side. He let go in shock, throwing his arms to your shoulders and assessing the wounds.

 

"Oh shit. Oh God, Y/N, I'm so sorry. Oh no..." he rambled on and on as your knees buckled underneath you.

 

You didn't scream, but rather grumbled through gritted teeth. You didn't notice that Sam had run after the vampire until he got back.

 

"He's gone," you heard faintly. There was a rushing in your ears. "How is she looking?"

 

Dean's eyes were glossy. "I think it hit her ribs. But it's deep."

 

"We've got to get her back to the motel before she loses more blood," Sam insisted.

 

Dean nodded and they both grabbed an arm to help you up. That's when the real pain hit you.

 

Now you were screaming. By the time you were standing your vision was blurred and almost completely obscured by dark spots.

 

"Put her in the backseat," Sam ordered.

 

"My bike..." was all you were able to mutter before passing out.

 

~ ~ ~

 

"How much longer?" you demanded.

 

"Two weeks," Dean said.

 

You knew that was a lie. Your whole life recently had basically been sitting in a motel bed, staring at the TV ahead of you, whether or not it was on.

 

At least you could sit up now.

 

There was a soft knocking at the door. Dean peeked outside, before opening it up.

 

"Hey," Paul said, softly. "Just wanted to see how you were doing."

 

You shrugged. He walked up beside the bed and sat down where he normally sat nowadays.

 

"Anything I can do to help?" he offered.

 

"Turning back time would be great," you muttered, sarcastically.

 

"How far back should I go?" he joked.

 

"The 1600's."

 

"Hmm, interesting choice. Why is that?"

 

You smiled. You hated having to stay here, in this beat motel, so far from home, without even being able to get up without help, but somehow Paul was very good at distracting you.

 

"I don't know," you responded. "It was a random choice."

 

~ ~ ~

 

"I can walk. I barely feel it anymore."

 

"You're still hurt!" Dean insisted.

 

"Please Dean, I  _ need _ to go home. I'm  _ dying _ to get home."

 

Dean paced the room.

 

"She's got a point," Sam finally spoke up.

 

"You're not supposed to agree with her on this!" he exclaimed. "I mean, we'd have to go get her bike from outside the bar and then, she'd have to ride it all the way home _ by herself _ ."

 

Sam rolled his eyes. "All we've got to do is give her something to numb the pain. She has a phone. If it starts to hurt again, or her stitches rip, she can get off the bike and call us. But seriously Dean, it has healed over enough."

 

"What about Paul?"

 

Your jaw hit the floor. "What are you talking about?"

 

"You know that I never liked him. Why do you think I kept letting him in while you were injured?"

 

"Why?" You were getting tired of this game he was playing.

 

"He made you  _ smile _ , Y/N. You can't seriously tell me that you are just going to up and leave him like that."

 

You were frozen for a second. You never thought this would be a debate you ended up having with Dean, but carefully you continued. "There is nothing between me and Paul. And quite frankly, I'm worried that now that I'm healthy, he's going to ask me to run away with him once again."

 

He gulped. “And you’re positive you don’t want that?”

 

“ _ Dad! _ ”

 

Dean stopped, biting down on his lip. You looked wildly between the two brothers, but neither of their faces gave away anything. They had obviously had a talk about this and not asked your feelings on the matter.

 

“Are you trying to get rid of me? Is that what you’re saying?”

 

“No, Y/N! Of course not. You’re my daughter and I love you  _ so  _ much.” Your father took in a deep breath before continuing. “But that means that I want you to be happy. You wouldn’t be running away exactly, but I know that you can take care of yourself and I’m sure you don’t love the bunker. I understand it’s strange. So, if you want to go off and explore the world with this boy… As long as you call, I’ll let you go.”

 

You felt something push right up against your sternum. You weren’t sure what your dad meant by this. Most parents don’t let their kids leave the house at sixteen, but your dad wasn’t most parents. He’d had to live alone and take care of Sammy since he was little. And he tried to teach you to be just as independent, in case of emergency.

 

But you really didn’t want this. You  _ didn’t _ . You just weren’t sure how to show him.

 

Your breath was shaky. “Pack up the car. We’re leaving now.”

 

With a huff, your father grabbed his duffel bag and stormed out.

 

Sam slowly approached and sat down beside you. “Y/N…” he started.

 

“I want to be with you guys! Why doesn’t he see that?” You cleared your throat. No one was going to see how distraught you were right now. Absolutely no one.

 

There was silence. Then, Sam gave you a light pat on the back and started for his own duffel bag.

 

You stayed on the bed a minute, drinking in the silence of the room. You knew you should say goodbye to Paul before you go, but right now it felt wrong.

 

In a blink of an eye, you stood up, packed a bag and slid into the backseat of your dad’s car. You wanted to get your motorcycle and go home.

 

The blood rushed in your ears. Your heart beat like a drum, hitting your ribcage and shaking you to the core. And your eyes were trained on the back of the passenger seat.

 

_ You would not cry _ .

 

As soon as the car started you wished you had your motorcycle. It would be a quieter, faster escape.

 

And as if to stall longer, Dean left the car in park and turned to you.

 

“Y/N, are you  _ sure _ ? You don’t have to-”

 

“Go.”

 

You were shocked that your voice held, but you wouldn’t show it. You’d never show it.

 

He started forward and what you feared happened: Paul had heard you. His door swung open and he leaped out.

 

You used to joke that you could hear nothing over the engine of the impala, but now you wished anything that were true, because you could hear him.

 

He screamed your name. Nothing but your name.

 

Dean’s eyes glanced up at the rearview mirror to watch as Paul raced after the car, still calling for you.

 

You refused to turn around.

 

Sam looked back as well, but only to make eye contact with you.

 

Before he could say anything- as you a question or try to change your mind- you cut him off.

 

“Just keep driving.”

 

“Y/N, he-”

 

“ _ Keep _ …” you swallowed, trying desperately to calm yourself, “driving.”

 

Sam shook his head, a bit in disbelief, but didn’t argue.

 

You would not cry. You’d never cry over some boy…

 

You had to leave, you told yourself over and over again. You had to leave him behind.

 

The dust soon cleared and Paul was left alone at the motel. But you could not see him.


	14. Chapter 14

You were startled awake by your phone's loud buzzing across the room.

 

You grumbled, pulling yourself from your bed and stumbling to the desk a few feet away. You struggled to remind yourself why you had left your phone there to begin with, rather than leave it on your bedside table where you could get to it in case of an emergency.

 

" _ Hey Y/N. You calmer this morning? _ "

 

That's right. You and Sam had been working a case for some time now. Something was killing people by taking all the muscle out of their bodies. While talking to him last night you had gotten a bit... carried away trying to work things out and hung up rather unceremoniously, throwing your phone on the table and going to sleep.

 

"Better, yeah."

 

" _ Good _ ," your uncle replied, " _ because you need to get down here _ ."

 

"Hm?" You weren't upset, just confused. "But I thought you said you could handle this on your own?"

 

When you spotted the case, you weren't terribly up in arms to take it. You had been going on trip after trip recently and were happy to spend some time at home, but when Sam offered to go, you promised him you would research from the bunker to make up for the fact that he'd have to go alone.

 

" _ Things changed. I think I figured out what this is. Some kind of greek folklore type beast. But if I'm correct: these things go hunting in groups of three or four. I'll need some back up _ ."

 

"Aren't Dean and Mary almost done with their case? Why don't you just have one of them pop on by?"

 

" _ Even if they do finish soon, they're in the pacific and I'm in the east. We're practically on different sides of the country. You could get here much sooner and you aren't on a hunt anyway _ ."

 

You bit down on your lip. "How soon do you want me there?"

 

" _ Soon as possible _ ," he responded.

 

You rolled your eyes, hanging up the phone and walking back over to your bed. You stared at it a minute, thinking of how badly you wanted to collapse on it and simply go back to sleep. But, you didn't, turning to sit on the edge and pull on some shoes.

 

You picked up the black combat boots that Jack had gotten for you on your eighteenth birthday, which had been about a month ago.

 

A lot of time had passed since your incident with Paul. You truly didn't actually think of it much anymore, but every once in a while a bubble of curiosity would grow in your stomach. You would think about how he was doing. If he was still living on the road. Whether or not he remembered you. But then, that bubble would burst as you reminded yourself that it wasn't your business. You had left him.

 

But those thoughts weren't plaguing you at the moment. What was truly on your mind was a break. Hunting was an around the clock job, which would work for you if you got some vacation time, but as your dad would put it, "Compare the few days in the year to the billions of monsters on the planet and then do the math of how many lives would be lost while you're on the beach."

 

You knew that was an exaggeration. Your father wasn't opposed to taking days for yourself if there wasn't a case you had to solve. However, it seemed like recently, cases had been popping up right in front of everyone's noses. As soon as you got off a case, your father needed help in Oregon or there were werewolves upstate or Mary thought something seemed fishy in the news and thought you could check it out. And you couldn't exactly ignore it when people's lives could be in danger. Especially if you  _ knew  _ lives were in danger.

 

But dear god did you want a break.

 

You slipped out of your own room and made your way to Jack's. 

 

He smiled as he opened the door. "Hey Y/N! What's up?"

 

"Um, Sam asked me to join him on a case. I'm leaving right now. I hope you don't mind."

 

Jack's eyes lit up. "Oo, how fun! What are you hunting?"

 

"Greek folklore? He didn't really specify. I don't think he knows himself," you said lightly.

 

"Alright. Well, be careful. Let me know if you need anything else! And call me when you get there."

 

You nodded. "I will. Thanks Jack."

 

~ ~ ~

 

"How's it going?"

 

You stepped off your motorcycle, walking up to Sam, who stood outside his motel room.

 

"Alright. How was your trip?"

 

"Long," you sighed, finally lifting the heavy helmet off your head.

 

"Sorry," Sam responded. "But I appreciate you coming down here." He began explaining all that he had learned while the two of you walked into his motel room.

 

You threw yourself across his bed as he finished up talking.

 

"Oh yes. You should probably go get yourself your own room," he said, remembering that he got a room with only one bed when he thought he was going to work the case alone.

 

"I will," you replied, still sprawled across his. "But I should call Jack first, to confirm I got here okay."

 

Hearing your tone, Sam argued, "He's just trying to look out for you. I'm glad he wants to be a big brother to you."

 

You sighed. "I know. I'm not  _ ungrateful _ . I'm just... exhausted."

 

Sam let out a small, airy laugh and sat down beside you on the bed. "I know you are, Y/N. You've been hard at work these past weeks. I don't think you've had a day off since your birthday."

 

"Part of the job," you grumbled.

 

"Not exactly a normal eighteen-year-old's life."

 

You sat up next to him. "Don't worry about me, Sam. I don't need to be a normal kid. I couldn't if I tried. But you seriously shouldn't pity me."

 

Sam smiled and put a hand on your back. "I'll do my best to get you a vacation."

 

"Thanks Sam."

 

~ ~ ~

 

You were about ready to collapse once you and Sam got back to the motel.

 

You’d had to fight some grubby little monsters who were murdering people by sucking the muscle from their bodies. Four of them, as Sam had guessed.

 

You dragged yourself into your own room and dropped onto the bed like a weight. You were just succumbing to the veil of sleep that had been plaguing you all day, when your phone rang.

 

Looking at the caller ID, you answered and said, quite pointedly, "What?"

 

" _ Someone's in a good mood _ ," your father responded sarcastically.

 

"Can you make it quick? I need some sleep."

 

" _ Tomorrow morning, get on your bike and head to Chicago. I've got us a case _ ."

 

"Why can't you make Sam go with you?"

 

" _ Sam is coming too, don't worry. But believe me, you're gonna want to be on this one _ ."

 

You grumbled in response.

 

You could almost feel his exasperation on the other end, but you couldn't help it. You were tired.

 

" _ Do you remember that case we worked last year? Your first vampires? _ "

 

Your eyebrows knit together. "Yes? What about it?"

 

" _ You got stabbed. And the last vampire got away... well, I found him _ ."

 

You shot up from your bed almost instantly. "How?"

 

" _ I got a tip from one of my old friends that there was a nest in northern Chicago. He can't go fight them himself because he's currently working a separate case. I went up there to look into it and in the background of one of the crime scene photos, there's the last vamp _ ."

 

It took you a moment to be able to swallow. It's not like you were a revenge seeker and to be quite honest, you didn't like the memories that went along with this blast to the past. But at the same time, the scar that went all the way across your side and slightly down your stomach was a pain. It was difficult to heal and hard to look at. And your father had to carry the guilt of wielding the blade that did that to you. And that's what truly made you angry.

 

"Are you already there? Like settled and got a motel and everything?"

 

Dean made a noise of confirmation on the other end.

 

"Then I'll get on my bike now."

 

" _ I thought you said you needed sleep? _ " he asked.

 

"I can sleep when I get there," you mumbled.

 

" _ Y/N, you can't ride a motorcycle all the way to Chicago while your tired. Get some rest. I can wait for you and Sam. _ "

 

"The targets of this nest can not," you retorted, then hung up the phone and stood up.

 

_ So much for a break... _

 

~ ~ ~

 

"I thought you wanted to take a vacation." Sam got out of the car and walked toward you, while you waited outside the motel. The situation resembled the one you were in a week ago when you went to help Sam.

 

"I still do. But I'll be damned if I wasn't going to jump on this case."

 

Sam chuckled. "As long as you can stay conscious, it's fine by me."

 

"I took a nap while waiting for you," you assured him.

 

Turning on your heels, you opened the door to the motel room you stayed in last night and walked inside.

 

Dean was sitting at a small table that was set up towards the back. He didn't look up as you and Sam entered, going over his notes from the day. You walked over, seating yourself on the closest bed and waiting for him to speak up. Sam joined you on the side of the bed.

 

"Hold on," Dean grumbled. "I'm looking for... aha! Here it is." He pulled out a picture from one of the murders. "You know how I was telling you about my theory that these vamps were killing people together? Instead of picking victims solo?"

 

The question was directed at you.

 

"Well, look at this picture. There's this guy in the background walking away from the crime scene. Not too suspicious until..." He threw the picture he had showed you when you got there, hours before, into your lap once more. "Look next to the guy we know. Same person." He said, pointing between the two. "And," he showed you a woman in the first picture, "I could swear I saw her at the scene when I went to  investigate that murder yesterday."

 

You looked between the two photos, Sam leaning over your shoulder. "I don't get it. Why hang the scene of a crime they committed?"

 

"And in broad daylight," Sam muttered, taking the pictures from you.

 

"Beats me," Dean responded.

 

"What you were saying about them murdering in groups doesn't make sense either. I thought all the victims only had one bite mark?" you argued.

 

"Maybe they're all biting in the same place to avoid suspicion?"

 

You shook your head. "All vamp bites have clean markings. If they bit down on the same place, it would be obviously distorted, due to coordination, teeth sizes, jaw sizes. The skin would have more than bite marks... it'd probably have rips."

 

Dean rolled his eyes. "I don't know, Y/N. I just thought, with the fact that they're all seen together and the footprints I found from the first murder, that they all must be going to hunt together but if you really want to argue with me-"

 

"Don't get pushy," Sam reprimanded his brother. "All Y/N's doing is the job."

 

"I know," he grumbled.

 

Your dad must have been pretty tired, too, you realized. All three of you were you decided as soon as this case was over you should turn off everyone's internet so they couldn't find another case and then force them to sleep for a good week.

 

"Alright, any clue where the nest is?" Sam questioned.

 

Dean shook his head. "No. Not yet. However, there is a bit of hope," he provided.

 

"What's that?"

 

He made eye contact with you. "They're targeting girls of Y/N's description."

 

~ ~ ~

 

The plan was simple enough, pretend to be jogging around the block of a nearby park during the evening. It was a fairly open area and no one would be there that late, so the vamps would spot you and Sam and Dean could hide themselves on separate sides of the block and jump in once they saw someone coming for you.

 

You didn't have an issue with this plan, except the jogging part. Your nose had been stuffy the past two days, almost like you were developing a cold and you had a massive headache. You made sure to take some pain meds before hopping into the impala with the brothers.

 

They took you a little over halfway there, before kicking you out of the car, so that nobody saw you get out of the impala at the park. You put in some earbuds, not actually turning on music, but giving the impression that you couldn't hear the outside world.

 

As you began your walk to the park, you found yourself rubbing your eyelids constantly. Every step add a dull ache to your head, although your previous headache had subsided a bit. You tapped your under eyes in an attempt to feel more awake but it wasn't much use. And it was frustrating, because you could barely even focus enough to see your surroundings in the dark.

 

As you got closer, your steps got heavier, and all you could think about was how much you were going to dread jogging around the park.

 

Then, your foot found an uneven patch in the sidewalk and before you could balance yourself, you were face down in the concrete. One would think a hard fall onto a cold ground would wake one up, but it seemed as soon as you hit the floor, your body took over and you were out like a light.


	15. Chapter 15

 

Your eyes were hazy when you woke up. You sniffled a couple of times, head pounding and throat sore. You were pretty sick from what you could tell.

 

Then you really came to consciousness and remembered what had happened. And unfortunately, you didn't find yourself still on the Chicago sidewalk or even in the impala or motel.

 

Nope, you were tied to a chair in a sad looking warehouse.

 

You slowly moved your head around, trying to get a read on the situation without making your migraine worse. The rest of the room was empty from what you could tell. You were alone.

 

You groaned loudly. You had no clue how to get out of this one. You were tied with rope, which meant you couldn't use a hairpin or paperclip to get out. Plus, they had stripped you of your jacket, which meant no pockets, so no chance of finding  _ something _ useful, and your machete was long since taken.

 

There was a possibility of breaking the chair, if you were able to stand and hit the back legs just right, but you knew that was a long shot. You didn't have the strength for that right now and whether or not it worked, you would fall backwards, best case scenario giving you a small concussion, but in all likelihood, with your sickness?  You'd probably be knocked out cold once again.

 

You weren't able to contemplate another plan, not that you'd be able to anyway, because you were interrupted by the door at the end of the warehouse creaking open.

 

You squinted, trying desperately to get a good look, but you couldn't until he got closer. And low and behold, it was the very vamp you came here for.

 

"Would you look at that. Up and at 'em, are we?"

 

The sound of his voice sent stabbing pains through the front of your forehead.

 

"Hm, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning," he mentioned, noticing your face contort. "Well, not exactly morning, is it?" he chuckled. "I'm not surprised, though. You took a hard fall. I was worried you might have been faking it, to get me to come out of hiding, but nope. You passed out."

 

"Why haven't you killed me yet?" you asked, through gritted teeth.

 

He clucked his tongue, mockingly. "Oh Y/N, what are you doing here?"

 

You froze. "How... how do you know my name?"

 

"Why she told me, of course! She told me that a girl by the name of Y/N, would be in Chicago soon, looking for me. She said you were the daughter of Dean Winchester and that I would recognize you and your ride as soon as you rolled into town. And she was right! The last thing she said was, simply that I was supposed to capture you and hand you over to her."

 

"She..." you mumbled. "Her..." You tried racking your brain to figure out who on earth he was talking about, but you came up empty.

 

"I was hesitant at first. You see, I don't kill anyone anymore. But I wouldn't be killing you exactly and you made it so easy when your dad and his brother dropped you off, alone, on the side of the road, and then you conked out. I mean, you were begging to be captured at that point."

 

"I don't understand. Who wants me-?" you were interrupted by the sound of the door opening once more and in stepping your father and Sam, carrying machetes.

 

"Oh shit," the vamp muttered, before turning on his heel and running far away.

 

Sam, just like last time, dashed after him, following him through a door and farther into the warehouse. Dean on the other hand, just stood there, arms crossed.

 

"You look terrible." He smirked.

 

You winced once more at the sound of his voice echoing across the empty walls.

 

"How'd you two find me?"

 

"Tracked your phone," he said, pointing to the side of the room where your phone, jacket, and machete all sat.

 

He approached, walking behind you to help you out of your ropes.

 

"What time is it? How long have I been here?"

 

Your father made a sound of surprise. "You're really out of it, huh? What he do to you?"

 

"Nothing," you grumbled. "Except tie me to a chair."

 

The ropes loosened, then fell to the floor. You made to get up, but Dean stopped you almost immediately, planting himself in front of you.

 

"Not so fast. If he didn't do anything to you, how did you end up here?"

 

You sighed. "I, uh... passed out on my way to the park."

 

Your dad chuckled, without humor. "Sam was right."

 

Your eyebrows crept together. "What did Sam tell you?"

 

"All he said was you were exhausted, and you didn't look very good when you got out of the car."

 

You nodded, not having much else to add to the conversation.

 

"Y/N..." your father started slowly. "When you are sick and tired, you get some sleep. You don't drive for hours on your motorcycle overnight. You don't agree to go on big hunts. And you  _ especially  _ don't agree to let me use you as bait  _ when you aren’t prepared for it _ ."

 

You rested an arm on your knee and dropped your head into it. "I didn't think it was that bad."

 

Sam came waltzing back in, bloodied machete in hand. "He's dead."

 

Dean replied, "Good," before turning to leave, but Sam stopped him.

 

"Wait a minute. Y/N, why did he bring you here? They said that they were a nest that didn't harm humans."

 

You paused, for a moment. "He mentioned that. Said something about not killing anymore... How did you know about that?"

 

Sam shrugged. "Well, even though you never made it to the park, someone else did. They were attacked, we went to kill the vamp, but his own nest got him first. Guess they weren't happy with the attention he was gaining in town and had been trying to figure out who was breaking the no violence code in their nest for a while... that's why they were at all the crime scenes. They couldn't figure out who was doing it. Until tonight."

 

You tried to process it all, but you were reaching a point were the words weren't even going in one ear, much less out the next.

 

"So murder vamp is dead. Does that mean that we're done here? Job over?"

 

"You're avoiding the question about why you're here. Did he tell you why he captured you?"

 

"Oh..." you muttered. "Right. Someone told him, too. A woman, I guess. He kept saying, ' _ She _ told me you would be here', ' _ She _ said to bring you to her'." You huffed. "She knew my name. She knew I was going to be in Chicago. And she wants me for some reason. Who knows what."

 

Sam and Dean shared a worried look. "Did he say anything else about her? Did you get a name? Some sort of indication to who she was at all?"

 

You shook your head, slowly. "Nothing. He was super cryptic about everything. Now then, can we go back to the bunker?"

 

You stood up a bit too fast, eager to get out, and almost collapsed once again onto your father.

 

"Yeah... no. There's no way I'm letting you hope on a motorcycle and drive to Lebanon like this. That's almost a ten hour drive! You are going back to the motel, and you are going to sleep."

 

Despite how much you wanted to go home, you really didn't have an argument to that suggestion. So you simply shrugged and followed them out, leaning heavily on your dad's arm.

 

~ ~ ~

 

"Hey," Dean said softly, shaking you awake. "How are you feeling?"

 

As soon as you opened your eyes you regretted it. "Like crap," you mumbled.

 

"I figured. You've been tossing and turning for a good 11 hours."

 

You rubbed your eyes at the statement. "Sorry, I'll get up and-"

 

"No," he protested. "Stay here. You're obviously not well enough to do anything. But I needed to talk to you before we left."

 

You raised an eyebrow. "Left? For what-?"

 

Your father sat down on the bed opposite you. "Sam and I are going to head back to the bunker. But considering that you have a fever and obviously can't make a 10 hour drive on a motorcycle, I paid for 3 more nights in this room and bought you some medicine and stuff." He pointed over at the night stand, on which sat a grocery bag, presumably containing flu medication. "You have money, right?"

 

"Mhmm."

 

"Good. I'll leave you with some for the drive back and food, but if you're still sick and need to stay longer, you'll have to cover that yourself."

 

You nodded, face snuggling down once again.

 

"Sorry to leave you Y/N, but I'm worried about this person who's after you. Sam and I are going back to try and figure out who might be on your tail. We'll keep in touch as best as we can for the next couple of days. But please, be careful."

 

You quietly muttered, "I will," before falling back asleep.

 

You were conscious for very little of the rest of the morning. They boys packed up their stuff and said goodbye to you, but you couldn’t remember if you responded.

 

This hazy, in and out of sleep continued until about 2 in the afternoon, when you were struck with hunger.

 

You swung yourself up and out of bed.

 

You took some antibiotics, but luckily you were feeling much better and you were so hungry that it was worth going outside anyway.

 

As soon as you had collected some money from the wad of cash your father left, you reached for the door.

 

The minute you stepped outside you felt like something was wrong. And it wasn't your sickness. You looked around outside to see if someone was nearby, but you didn't see anyone. You figured you were still a bit delusional, and attempted to lock the door, but before you could get the key in, you flipped around, hearing someone approaching.

 

You didn't have time to defend yourself from your attacker, because the minute you were facing them, they were on top of you, getting in two good punches before hitting your temple and effectively knocking you out, for the second time in 24 hours. 


	16. Chapter 16

 

"You shouldn't have hit her so much. Look at her face, it's a mess!"

 

If you thought your migraine from the day before couldn't get worse, you were sorely mistaken. You didn't want to move, or even open your eyes, because of how much pain you were in.

 

"What's the problem? It'll just make her look more helpless. Which will, in turn, make her father more desperate." The man who was speaking had a heavy accent, but at the moment you didn't really care to determine where he might be from.

 

"The more desperate he is, the faster he will find us. And that's not much fun... is it?"

 

You recognized the woman's voice though. You had no clue why, but it felt almost taunting as it spoke. Despite your better judgement, you peeked through little slits of your eyes to try and determine who was speaking, but the minute your pupils were exposed to the bright light around them, you gasped loudly and shut them once more.

 

The woman made a soft, sort of coughing noise. "Well, looks like she survived, at least."

 

You positioned your head towards the floor and reopened your eyes, as slowly as possible, trying to let them adjust.

 

"Y/N, darling, it's so nice to see you again."

 

You felt your heart stop in your chest as you made eye contact with the last person you thought you'd ever see again...

 

"Agent Altomare?"

 

She smiled, shaking her head slightly. "Would you look at you! You're all grown up!"

 

You couldn't believe this. Here you were, tied up in some sort of basement, talking to the FBI agent working your mother's case two years ago.

 

When you didn't respond, she went on, "I have to admit. You did look better after having totaled your motorcycle."

 

You could believe that. The person who had knocked you out, presumably the guy standing to the agent's right, had gotten in some good hits. Your right eye felt swollen. And beside that, you felt like utter crap. You were sicker than sick.

 

"Guy," she ordered. "Go get Cameron."

 

The man nodded, before walking out and leaving you with Agent Altomare.

 

"Hello darling. How have you been these past two years?"

 

You looked her up and down. "Agent Altomare, what-"

 

"Uh, uh," she interrupted you. "My name isn't Altomare. In fact, I'm not actually an agent, although I think I made a pretty convincing one, don't you?"

 

Your eyebrows knit together. "Who are you?"

 

She smirked. "Mollie Pollard. British Men of Letters. I was sent here to grab you, would you believe it?"

 

You glanced down at your feet. "That's how you knew all that stuff about Dean, when you found me."

 

"Oh no," she replied. "I had to guess on that. I was told to grab you and get out of there, but when you mentioned someone named Dean... well, Dean Winchester is quite famous, especially in the British Men of Letters. I just had to find out if that's truly who you were talking about. And not only did you know Dean, low and behold, he's your _ father _ ." She laughed. "That was a striking turn of events, I must say."

 

As she spoke, you could hear her accent start to emerge. She had obviously been masking it for quite a long time.

 

"Why were you sent after me?" You struggled a moment against what was holding you there. You were obviously handcuffed, but you weren't sure what the handcuffs were attached to.

 

"When the Men of Letters got the news that your mother died, we had to come over immediately to say goodbye. We wanted to grab you to bring you home."

 

"Home... what's that supposed to-"

 

"Your mother, darling. She was one of our agents."

 

As Mollie said that, the man, Guy, returned with Cameron.

 

"Are you saying my mother was...?"

 

"Indeed. She was somewhat abandoned after she came to the US. I felt a bit guilty about that, but what can I do? She wasn't able to find the bunker while she was here, and the head of the Men of Letters was quite upset. Told her not to come back to the UK until she found it. From what I hear, you actually live in that bunker now, don't you?"

 

You refused to answer that.

 

"Hm," she responded. "You don't take after your mother much, do you? Although I suppose she changed quite a bit after having you. Nevermind that, I was sent here two years ago to take you to our headquarters, in Britain. But, when I found out who your father really was... well, things change. And we," she finished off, nodding towards the men in the room, "have somewhere to be."

 

The two men approached, Guy reaching behind you to unhook your handcuffs from what they were attached to, and the both of them grabbed an arm and started to escort you out of the room.

 

You struggled as best you could, but in the state you were in, there was much you could do. You felt like you were going to pass out once more any minute now. 

 

They dragged you through the buildings and Mollie walked behind the three of you, her heels clacking in the concrete hallways.

 

They had stripped you of all your jackets and boots, effectively leaving you weaponless. You wore a simple tank top and jeans, with bare feet.

 

Suddenly, they stopped and Cameron let go to open a doorway to your left. It was dimly lit and once you were inside, you realized it wasn't empty.

 

There were two poles that ran up through the center of the room. The one closest to the door had a chain circling the bottom. The other one was occupied by a boy.

 

He was shackled to the floor, and, much like you, had been stripped to a tshirt and pants with bare feet. For a moment you panicked, thinking it might be Paul, but the thought fled as you got a better look.

 

He had dark hair which fell into his eyes and if you had to guess, you'd say he was a few years older than you.

 

He didn't look up as you were escorted inside. You wondered if he was asleep.

 

"Ben, say hello to our new guest."

 

As soon as Mollie said that, the guard on your right knocked you of your feet, right next to the empty pole.  Realizing what they were doing, you struggled to move away from it, but that proved difficult with your hands tied. In no time, that had locked your handcuffs up to the chain.

 

They were so tightly connected you couldn't go anywhere, not even stand all the way up.

 

"Ben, don't make me ask you again."

 

"Hello." Ben's voice was defeated and hoarse. You weren't sure if you wanted to ask how long he'd been there.

 

"I'm so sorry, Ben," you said.

 

"That's cute," Mollie snarled. "You think Ben is so innocent."

 

You had no idea whether or not Ben was an innocent person, but considering  _ you _ were her idea "guilty", you were certain he didn't deserve to be there.

 

"Now that that's done, let's get to the good bit, shall we? As both you know, my name is-"

 

"Mollie Pollard," you interrupted, mockingly. "British Men of Letters."

 

She blinked at you, almost like she couldn't believe you had just done that. Then, she gestured to one of her goons. Guy walked around to face you and gave you a swift punch.

 

It hit your cheek, sending your head back into the concrete pole behind you and you grunted as your brain bounced around in your head. There was a taste of blood in your mouth as you looked back Mollie.

 

"There we are," she smiled. "That should teach you that we don't speak out of turn. Now then, yes, my name is Mollie Pollard. I've brought you two here because I need information."

 

You snickered. "And what information is that?"

 

She smirked. "The normal stuff. I want to know everything about you, your lives, and your families lives, as possible."

 

"Why... us?" you asked. You could have understood if it was just you. The Winchesters were a big ticket item on basically everyone's list, but this college boy?

 

"Because you, Y/N L/N and Ben Braedon, are the only known children of Dean Winchester."


	17. Chapter 17

The guards came in to bring you food twice. You refused to eat any of it, but Ben nibbled it down.

 

You had tried talking to him once, but he was silent. No doubt this whole thing had been a very traumatic experience for him. You decided to give him time.

 

The hours were long, though. You hadn't seen Mollie since she dropped you there. If she really wanted information from the two of you _ , why wasn't she trying to take it? _

 

You might have drifted to sleep once or twice, but it was hard to tell. It hadn't improved your illness. You still felt exhausted and in pain while you sat there.

 

Your face ached and you could feel dried blood around it, but without your hands, there wasn't much you could do but leave it there. It felt like someone had shot you through the forehead. And your throat felt as though it had been hugged by a jellyfish. You'd had the taste of iron in your mouth for hours.

 

"He's not my dad," came a whisper.

 

Your eyes went wide as you glanced at the boy.

 

"I'm sorry?"

 

"Dean. He's not my biological father." Your eyebrows knit together as you listened to him. "I've had the blood work done. I've met my real dad. It's not Dean."

 

You chuckled slightly, but stopped as the unnecessary sound made pain shoot down your throat. "Well, Mollie obviously thinks he is."

 

It was hard to tell, but it looked like Ben was nodding. "He, uh... he lived with us for a while. Me and my mom. That's why. In fact, a lot of people thought he was my dad."

 

"How long?" you asked.

 

"What?"

 

"How long did he live with you?"

 

Ben shrugged. "Little over a year. I was eleven."

 

"Wow," you mumbled. "Dean can settle down for more than a year? I didn't think that was possible."

 

"Yeah... so, you're his actual daughter?"

 

You could hear the hesitance in his voice and a small smile tugged at your lips. "You could say that. He didn't know I existed until I was nine."

 

It was Ben's turn to laugh. "Me neither."

 

"But I've been living with him for two years now... and that's nice." You gulped, not sure whether to say what you were thinking. But you had to know. "He's, uh... never mentioned you. Or your mom before."

 

Ben didn't look surprised. Just shrugged. "I doubt he remembers us very well. If he does, he doesn't want to think about it."

 

"What happened?" you pressed.

 

Ben bit down on his lip. "Do you know the angel Castiel?"

 

"Yes."

 

"He wiped our memories."

 

You froze for a moment. "He uh... You and your mom?"

 

You had trouble focusing on the conversation, but you needed to know.

 

"Yep," Ben mumbled. "Or he was supposed to. We were kidnapped and my mom got hurt... badly. Dean thought it was his fault and that we would be targeted for knowing him, so he asked Castiel to wipe our memories of him. Convince us that we had been in a car accident."

 

You shook your head. "But you know who Dean is."

 

He nodded. "I begged Castiel not to clear my memory. I didn't want to forget. He promised me he would leave me be as long as I didn't tell anyone that I remembered a thing. And I didn't. I haven't talked to Dean, or anyone I met during my time with them, since. And I never tried to remind my mom. But Mollie... she knew. When she came for me, I tried playing dumb, but she told me everything. She knew that I had known Dean for a couple of years and that my mother didn't remember, but I did. She  _ knew _ ."

 

"That's the men of letters for you," you responded. "They spy on everyone of interest to them and they document everythi-"

 

You were cut off as the leading lady of your recent anguish waltzed in.

 

"I have quite the surprise for the two of you today," she said, bubbling with excitement. Guy and Cameron entered and stood behind the two of you.

 

You looked over to find Ben silent once more, his eyes trained to the floor.

 

You could have almost laughed when the "scary kidnapper" brought out a laptop, but thought better of it.

 

"Whatcha up to there?" you asked, which earned you a swift kick to the ribs by Cameron.

 

"Oh not much," she remarked. "Just making a quick phone call."

 

You took a shuddering breath in, trying to put the pieces together.  _ What was she planning? _

 

"Good afternoon."

 

Your attention zipped back to Mollie, who smiled cruelly at her computer screen. You were considering trying to interrupt her, but your throat closed up when you realized who she was speaking to.

 

" _ Who are you? _ " Dean's voice held a curiosity you knew was bound to be broken.

 

"Mollie Pollard. British Men of Letters."

 

You couldn't see what was happening, but there was a moment of silence before he said, " _ What do you want? _ "

 

She smirked. "Nothing much. I just wanted to let you know that you left something behind in Chicago."

 

Before Dean had time to answer, she flipped the camera around so that you could see your father on the other end of the call.

 

You knew you looked bad. You had a black eye and a busted lip. Your clothes and hair were filthy. You felt sick beyond belief. And you were sure that a couple of your ribs were broken again, but Dean wouldn't be able to tell.

 

But the look on Dean's face when he saw your state made you ten times more frightened.

 

"Uh... hi dad?"

 

" _ Y/N?... Where are you? _ "

 

You pursed your lips. "I'm not sure. They knocked me out before they took me here."

 

He nodded. His face became stern. " _ How long have you been there? _ "

 

"I don't know that either. They found me a couple of hours after you and Sam left, but I can't judge time at all in this cell."

 

You both were frozen. There wasn't much else to say. Not here. Not in front of Mollie.

 

_ Mollie _ . You looked up at her, trying to figure out what she wanted.  _ Why was she calling Dean? Letting him know who she was? _ She simply nodded towards Ben.

 

Your eyebrows knit together, but you did what you could only hope was her wish. "Dad, in all the time I've known you, you kind of failed to mention that I had an adopted brother."

 

His eyes widened. " _ What are you talking about? _ "

 

Mollie Pollard turned the camera onto Ben.

 

He looked up, and in the light of the laptop screen, you could actually see that he didn't look too bad.

 

The left side of his jaw was bruised and he was filthy, but he otherwise looked fine.

 

"Dean?" he asked.

 

" _ I... Ben? _ " You could hear the recognition in your father's voice. And whether or not Ben was truly his son, he cared deeply for the boy.

 

" _ Y/N? _ " Dean's voice ruined your train of thought.

 

"Yes?"

 

Dean started to say something, but was interrupted by the sound of Cameron's hand making contact with your cheek. It echoed in the silent room.

 

"It's no longer your turn, Y/N," Mollie snarled. "If you speak out of turn, you get slapped."

 

You didn't say anything.

 

" _ Y/N _ ," Dean said again. " _ You don't let anything happen to Ben, do you hear me? _ "

 

You wished you could see your father's face, but the screen was still positioned towards Ben. So... you went for the next best thing.

 

You looked directly into Mollie Pollard's eyes and said, "I do."

 

You hissed through gritted teeth after the second slap.

 

Mollie's eyes never left you, an unreadable expression on her face.

 

" _ Don't worry, _ " Dean assured. " _ I'm going to find you guys. I will- _ "

 

His voice was abruptly cut off as Mollie closed the laptop.

 

She took one step, then another, in your direction. One she had reached you, she crouched down at your side and grabbed your chin in one hand.

 

"You are a feisty one, hm?"

 

Your cheek burned, but you stared back with cold eyes. You didn't want her to think that she frightened you for a second.

 

She waited for an answer from you, but didn't get one. "No matter. We'll break your spirit, don't worry. You'll become a sad, quiet sap, just like your brother."

 

"You can't break someone's spirit... just bury it."


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick warning that there are some graphic descriptions of torture and just pain in this chapter!

When Mollie Pollard entered for a third time, your stomach dropped.

 

It had been at least a few days, from what you could tell, although it felt like weeks. Mollie never entered, only Cameron and Guy, who simply came to drop off food.

 

She entered with a syringe in hand and her guards in tow.

 

"Hello Winchester offspring. How are you, this fine evening?"

 

Neither of you responded.

 

She smirked, living off the fact that she had the two of you at her disposal.

 

"Well, I have some work to do, with the two of you. Shall we begin?" she flicked the syringe and your eyes went wide. "Who wants to go first?"

 

She was met once again with silence, and started to look between the two of you. That's when your father's command started ringing in your ears:

 

_ You don't let anything happen to Ben, do you hear me? _

 

"What is it?" you blurted out.

 

"My little test. I need answers. Real answers. And this should give them to me."

 

You swallowed. _ Torture of some kind. It had to be. _

 

"I'll go," you forced yourself to say.

 

Of course you didn't want to. Fear shook you to your core as you thought about what could be in that glass bottle. But it was your job to protect Ben. He may be older than you, but he wasn't a hunter like you. He was just an ordinary person... a civilian.

 

You were sure you could withstand more than he could. But at the end of the day,  _ could you withstand it all? _

 

"Great," Mollie replied.

 

She walked over, dropping next to your captive form. Then, she slowly inserted the needle into your neck and emptied the bottle.

 

You were squirming away from her the minute the strange substance hit your bloodstream. Your heartbeat became strangely irregular and it was as if you could feel it spread in your veins.

 

It wasn't painful, but it was uncomfortable. You wanted to crawl out of your own skin to get away from the feeling.

 

"There we go," Mollie continued, standing up and stepping in front of you. "Let's give that a moment to settle. Now, how does that feel?"

 

"Weird," you said, almost immediately.

 

She stared at you, seeming to take mental notes of your reaction. You waited for her to get on with her agenda, when it hit you.

 

Suddenly, all the strange liquids in your system turned to fire. It was as if you were burning from the inside out.

 

You screamed, your mouth clamped shut. Your whole body convulsed in pain, but you couldn't go anywhere.

 

"Aha! I was waiting for that," she explained.

 

You writhed around uncontrollably. It felt like all your senses had shut down except touch and every movement you made burned. You couldn't breath. Your eyes and mouth were closed as tightly as possible and the only thing you heard were your cries echoing off the concrete walls.

 

Your body began to relax. The pain felt less like fire and more like being sore. Your limbs were heavy as lead and you let out all the air you had left.

 

Your vision blurred as you allowed yourself to reopen your eyes.

 

Mollie was as smug as ever, watching you squirm. She waited until you had gone still to speak again.

 

"Alright, time to test this out, I suppose." She thought for a moment. "What's your name?"

 

"Y/N L/N-Winchester." You once more responded without hesitation. It was strange, not to have a snappy retort.

 

"And your father's name?"

 

"Dean Winchester."

 

That was when you noticed something was off. You could barely think, but answers to Mollie's questions poured out of you like second nature.

 

"And your birthday?"

 

"March 12."

 

"Perfect," she snarled.

 

Your eyes went wide. "What is that-?" you stared, but was cut off as another wave of unbearable pain washed over you. You screeched some more, your eyes pricked with tears, but you couldn't stop it. Every spot that your clothes brushed your skin and every muscle that tensed for a moment lit up like a torch.

 

Just like last time, the pain disappeared a moment later, leaving you a gasping, sputtering mess.

 

"What I just injected you with?" she inquired, waiting once more for you to relax. "It's a little medicine of my own making. It's rather impressive isn't it? It's something of a truth serum, if you'd like to call it that."

 

Your mind had turned to goo and you could barely process a word as she told you this. Your breathing was loud in your ears and your face was pointed at the ground.

 

"It does have a nasty side effect though. When under the influence, people have noted going through waves of agonizing pain. You haven't noticed anything like that, have you?"

 

She laughed, cruelly.

 

It went on like this for what seemed like hours. She would ask you questions about Dean, Sam, Mary, Cas, and the bunker in between your screams in agony.

 

"Well," she said, finishing up. "That's all I need to know for today. Thank you so much for complying Y/N."

 

At her word, the guards left the room and she began to follow, then paused in the door.

 

"Oh, don't worry. That serum should wear off in another 15 minutes or so."

 

With that, she slammed the door and left you there.

 

You sputtered, trying to breath. It felt like you were dying, but you knew you only had to endure it for another few minutes.

 

"Are you okay?" Ben asked quietly from beside you.

 

"No," you didn't have a voice anymore and your words could have been mistaken for a breeze.

 

"Can I do anything?"

 

Your body was heavy. You were sure that you looked dead, because you didn't have the strength to move any of your limbs. "No."

 

"Why did you do that?" he asked.

 

You didn't fully understand the question and therefore you didn't have an automatic answer, so instead you said, "Are you trying to take advantage of me while I can't lie to you?"

 

"No!" he said, quickly. "I just... I didn't want you to feel alone for the next 15 minutes."

 

You couldn't bring yourself to smile at him, but the thought was sweet.

 

"What was your question again?"

 

"Why did you volunteer for that? You knew it was going to be bad, right?"

 

"Because I promised my dad I wouldn't let anything happen to you."

 

He went quiet. "... are you... are you serious?"

 

You tried to laugh, but it came out as more of a strangled gasp given your loss of voice. "I can't lie."

 

He started to laugh, too, at his own stupidity. "Sorry, I just meant... don't do that again. Alright? You're like a  _ kid _ and I'm not going to let you be tortured on my behalf."

 

"I'm eighteen now," you argued.

 

You let out a strangled gasp as you were overcome with blinding pain, but it left much faster than it had previously. It seemed to be wearing down.

 

He shrugged. "I don't care how old you are. The point is, you shouldn't have to do that for someone you don't know. I'm not sure that's what your dad meant."

 

"We Winchesters believe in protecting the civilian no matter what. We are trained to fight monsters specifically so that normal people can keep their innocence."

 

"Alright," he mumbled. "But I'm an honorary Winchester, too, right? So, you don't need to protect me like you would a... civilian." He thought about his statement, before adding. "That being said, maybe don't volunteer me for torture next time, but you don't have to take  _ all  _ the hits."

 

You laughed once more, before agreeing. And for a moment, there was peaceful silence between the two of you. An understanding. The two of you were in this together, and maybe you would make it out of there alive simply because you weren't alone.


	19. Chapter 19

From then on, you and Ben were good friends. Kind of a "those who get tortured together, stay together" sort of thing.

 

He was a good kid. He lived with his mom, Lisa, in Oregon and was finishing up community college. You had him tell you everything. You asked about all the different places he had lived with his mom, and the things he liked about college, and how pretty Oregon was. And you listened as he went on and on about how great his mom was.

 

He made the mistake once of asking you about your mom, to which you replied, "My mother is dead. And I'm not on great terms with her corpse at the moment."

 

Mollie came back a few more times. She put Ben under the truth serum once, but quickly realized that he really didn't know much. You, however, were a gold mine to her. She gave you two more doses at separate times, just to ask you questions.

 

You wondered what she planned to do with the information she had accumulated. It seemed almost random to you.

 

And surprise, surprise: your illness had not improved.

 

You had brief memory lapses, things you were always asking Ben about. You struggled to speak, often stuttering or slurring words or trailing off mid sentence. Your sinuses were shot: your voice gone, your nose burned, and  _ your head... _

 

Ben was worried about you. He knew you needed as much sleep as possible, but often times he'd yell to wake you up just to assure himself you weren't dead yet.

 

"Y/N," he whispered across the room. "You awake over there?"

 

You groaned in response.

 

You waited for a moment for him to go on, but he didn't. 

 

"Yeah, I'm awake," you assured him. "What do you want?"

 

"Listen."

 

You froze, listening intently, but heard nothing.

 

"What are you on about?" you grumbled.

 

"Dude, don't you hear that?"

 

You rolled your head around to glare at him. "No, Ben. I obviously don't."

 

He just kept on insisting. "Someone's yelling. It's far away, but it's there. Can't you hear them?"

 

You shut your eyes and put your head down once more. There was a risk that the minute you shut your eyes you'd fall asleep and forget about the conversation, but you did your best to concentrate.

 

Once you were focused, you could hear it better. Shouts. They were saying something but you couldn't make out any words. And the effort it took left you spinning.

 

"I can't... understand," you stated, opening your eyes once more. "I'm too- I'm. Too. Tired." You said each word individually, simply trying to communicate to Ben the worsening state you were in.

 

"Alright," he acknowledged. "Be quiet."

 

You did as he asked, resting your head against the pole behind you and waiting. As you sat, the noise got louder, meaning you could finally hear it without concentrating.

 

"Y/N," Ben murmured.

 

"What?"

 

"No, that's what he's saying... It's a man from what I can tell and he's calling your name."

 

You looked over once more. "Dean," you said, hoarsely. "I think he's here."

 

Ben's face was washed with sympathy. "Y/N... I'm sorry, but this is going to hurt your head so bad."

 

You didn't even have time to process what he was saying, before he screamed at the top of his lungs, " _ DEAN! _ "

 

You dropped your head, to look at your lap, trying not to let the noise get to you.

 

" _ DEAN! WE'RE DOWN HERE! _ " he continued shouting.

 

Finally, you were able to make out our father's voice. " _ BEN? _ " he yelled. " _ WHERE ARE YOU GUYS? _ "

 

As Ben continued to call out to your dad, his voice got clearer. He was getting close.

 

" _ Is Y/N with you? _ " he asked, as he ran down the hallway the two of you were in.

 

"Yeah." Ben turned to look at you. "But she isn't doing so good."

 

Dean finally reached the door that he thought Ben's voice was coming from. It took him two hard kicks, before it burst open.

 

"Oh, thank god," he cried, walking in and seeing the two of you. His tune changed a second later, when he noticed you sitting in front of him, unable to even lift your head and look at him. 

 

"Y/N?" he dropped to his knees in front of you. "Y/N, kiddo, are you okay?"

 

You shifted your head, just slightly to the side and groaned loudly. "Everything... hurts."

 

Dean looked at Ben for an explanation, but all he could say was, "She's sick. Really sick. Her voice has been gone for days. She shakes, and sweats, and vomits. I think a couple of her bones are broken, too, but I don't know. How long have we been gone?"

 

Dean looked at you, his face scrunched together with concern. "About 3 weeks... Y/N, Sam's on his way to help get the two of you out of here, but I need you to stay awake. Can you do that?"

 

You slowly nodded your head. "But dad... I told..." you slowly trailed off, unable to finish.

 

Dean asked Ben once more to explain.

 

"She’s got, like a truth serum. It's the most painful thing you've ever experienced and causes you to have loose lips. Mollie put Y/N under the influence multiple times. Asked her about you and Sam and your family."

 

Dean nodded in understanding. "Alright. Can you walk?" He stood up and made his way around Ben's pole so that he could untie him.

 

"I don't think so. We haven't been moved from these spots since we got here. So I haven't been on my feet in three weeks."

 

"Awesome," he mumbled, sarcastically. He continued to fumble with the handcuffs, before finally getting on of them to slip off Ben's hand.

 

"Where is Sam?" Dean questioned as he fiddled with the other hand. The handcuffs were still locked onto the pole, so Ben was still unable to get away with one arm free.

 

They both maneuvered towards his left arm, watching as Dean attempted to pick the lock on that side, facing away from the door.

 

You barely registered people entering the room. You only had time to hoarsely cry, "Dean!" before Guy was on top of them.

 

He made a quick swing at Ben, knocking him to the floor, then went for Dean. They fought for a moment, but Guy had the upper hand and was able to pin Dean against the wall.

 

After that scene ended, in walked Mollie and Cameron, who had Sam captured with his hands behind his back. It was strange to see anyone dragging Sam around, because he towered over everyone, but Cameron was a strong dude.

 

Ben tried to push himself up again, but with his left hand still attached to the concrete pole and his legs basically dead weight, he couldn't really do anything but watch.

 

Mollie clicked her tongue, looking between you and Ben and your father. "Look at this! A family reunion. How cute. Too bad, Y/N's not feeling too well," she smirked, looking you up and down. "And Dean won't be in a minute, either."

 

Swiftly, she pulled out a syringe. Your eyes widened, trying to communicate to Dean what she was going to do, but your voice was gone. Busted.

 

Before he could get Guy off of him, Mollie reached over and sunk the needle deep into his neck, subjecting him to the effects of truth serum.

 

"What the...?" he muttered, reaching for his neck. He didn't get there, however, before the pain kicked it.

 

He gasped and groaned in pain, his whole face contorting. Mollie watched this for a moment, then said to Guy, "Grab Y/N. I can handle him."

 

The minute Guy let go, Dean collapsed. Mollie kept her distance, waiting for the pain to wear off of him. Guy walked around you to disconnect your handcuffs from the chain and drag you over to Mollie.

 

He held you up by your upper arm. You couldn't hold yourself up, so he pulled you along beside him like a sack of potatoes.

 

Mollie looked between you and Dean. "I can see the family resemblance," she joked. "Leave her," she ordered.

 

Guy dropped you without hesitance and you landed on your side, your head directly in front of Mollie's feet. He went back to Dean, lifting him to his feet and pinning him against the wall once more.

 

Dean took in a few deep breaths as the first wave wore off. "What. Did you. Just. Give me," he demanded.

 

Mollie chuckled. "Doesn't matter. I gave you a much lower dose than I gave your little girl here, so it'll wear off soon."

 

"Dean," you forced yourself to say. "Don't... speak."

 

Mollie didn't even blink, before lifting her heeled foot up and stepping onto your cheek, pushing your face into the ground. "You know, Y/N, after all this time, you would think that you would know by now not to speak out of turn."

 

"What is going on?" Dean grumbled again. "What did you do to me?"

 

"What's your name?" Mollie questioned.

 

"Dean Winchester," he spat.

 

"And your birthday?"

 

"January 24th." Dean's eyes widened and he looked down at you. "Truth serum?"

 

You couldn't nod or speak, so you hoped your eyes could convey how much trouble he was in.

 

"Ah," she smiled. "So, Y/N told you about my favorite trick."

 

Dean opened his mouth to make a snarky retort, but he couldn't before another wave of pain hit him.

 

"Stop it," you whispered on the ground. "Dean, stop talking."

 

You knew there was no fighting this. Once he was under, he lost all sense of instinct. He wouldn't be able to stop a single word from leaving his lips.

 

Mollie knelt down beside your head and, without warning, wrapped her fingers around your throat. "My goodness, Y/N. You never listen, do you? You've been the biggest pain in my ass since you got here."

 

You brain went into panic mode, you gasped for air, barely getting enough. You tried to squirm away from her, but you didn't have the strength. Your eyes clouded with tears.

 

"Y/N! Stop, please," Dean begged when he was finally calm enough to register how much pain you were in.

 

"Then, tell me something, Dean. What is your deepest, darkest secret?"

 

You took in tiny breaths through gritted teeth. "Dean... don't-"

 

Mollie clamped down hard and your vision started to darken.

 

"I killed Y/N's mother," Dean admitted, without a single moment's hesitation.

 

Mollie's grip on you loosened in shock, but it was too late. At those words, you sank into unconsciousness.


	20. Chapter 20

_ Deja vu. _

 

You woke up in a hospital. You still felt like absolute crap, but hey, at least you had pain medication now.

 

"Y/N," Dean murmured, noticing you open your eyes. "How do you feel?"

 

He and his brother sat beside you, monitoring your improvement.

 

"Really,  _ really  _ bad," you replied. Your voice had not improved much. It still was raspy and painful.

 

Sam stood up. "We almost thought we were going to lose you there. You have a major concussion as well as a few broken ribs, a sprained ankle, and some bad bruising and cuts."

 

"What happened?" you asked.

 

Sam looked at Dean, but he didn't offer up any explanation.

 

"Um... a lot," Sam settled on. "We can talk about it later, but right now you should really rest your mind. It's been through a lot."

 

You agreed after a moment. "Alright. Oh, hold on. How's Ben?"

 

Sam smiled. "He's in a separate room. Soon to be released though, they couldn't find much wrong except the loss of muscle in his legs. He's working on walking again... He's been asking to see you, too."

 

You nodded and closed your eyes, planning to go back to sleep, but your dad spoke up.

 

"Y/N, he explained to us that he was barely hurt because you kept volunteering yourself for torture. Is that true?"

 

You glanced over at your father, whose face was grim.

 

"They needed a punching bag," you explained. "I can take a few punches."

 

"Y/N." Your father looked at you with so much heartache in his eyes you regretted saying that. "When I told you to look out for Ben, I didn't mean throw yourself directly into the line of fire, alright? Ben can take a broken bone or two if it means you live."

 

"I  _ did _ live," you insisted, but he shook his head.

 

"I'm going to tell Ben you're awake," he grumbled before storming out.

 

The minute he left your chest compressed as if someone had dropped a piano on you. "Sam..." you breathed out, your eyes glossing over. "Did Dean really kill my mom?"

 

Sam's head shot to stare at you. "I thought you didn't remember-?"

 

"I don't remember what happened after that," you explained. "But I could never forget that... I'm too scared to ask him. Can you please just talk to me?"

 

Sam sucked in his bottom lip, unsure what to say. "Y/N, I really think you should..." He trailed off, so you tried again.

 

"You know how Dean gets. Did you see that? I could have died and the minute I wake up he's moody and passive aggressive. He's going to avoid a real conversation with me until he's forced too, and I can't wait that long for answers."

 

You knew what Sam was trying to do, and you appreciated it, but right now you needed  _ answers _ , not family counseling.

 

Sam finally seemed to come to a conclusion a few minutes later and began a story. "The day before your mother died, Y/N, Dean was possessed by the archangel Michael. He was under Michael's control for six months."

 

You shook your head, forcing him to stop. "He told me about that. So, what? This Michael is the one who killed my mom? That doesn't add up. I  _ killed _ him. Did he send someone else to kill her? Even then, how is that Dean's fault? And why? My mom and dad weren't good friends or anything. What kind of leverage is that?"

 

"Just," Sam interrupted, "let me finish."

 

You leaned back, closing your eyes. You really didn't want to piss Sam off right. You needed to hear this.

 

"Like I said, Michael was an angel like Cas. But angels don't have human forms. So, when we interact with angels, normally what we're seeing is a vessel they're possessing."

 

Your eyebrows knit together. "So what you're saying is Cas doesn't actually look like... Cas?"

 

"No," Sam chuckled. "Cas is possessing the long dead body of a man named Jimmy Novak."

 

Your eyes shot open. "Like... Claire Novak?"

 

You had met Claire on multiple occasions but never would have thought that Cas was the spitting image of her  _ father _ . They didn't look much alike.

 

Sam hesitated. "Yes, Jimmy was Claire's father before... Anyways specific people are stronger vessels than others, it's entirely based on bloodline and Dean was that vessel."

 

"So angel's are like... demons. They steal a human body and walk around in it."

 

Sam nodded. "As soon as Michael caught Dean he went through his head, searching for something he could use as leverage over Dean and he found out the thing Dean loved most... was you."

 

You took in a shuddering breath.

 

"It was just a bonus that you were of the same bloodline. I'm sure he realized that if he had you, then if Dean ever burned out or got away or something, he could just possess you. So, the man who killed your mom? He was sent by Michael to kidnap you. Your mother was just in his way. Dean feels guilty that he wasn't able to protect you from Michael."

 

There was silence in the room. You weren't sure what exactly there was to say.

 

Your mother was a British Woman of Letters. And despite how much she loved you, that didn't excuse all the stuff she had done in the past. Stuff that she didn't tell you or Dean about. But at the same time, you love your mother for who she became in the end. And she didn't deserve to die on your behalf.

 

The sound of Sam shuffling brought you back into the moment and you stopped him before he walked out the door. "Sam?"

 

He froze and looked back at you. "Yeah?"

 

"If Michael wanted to kidnap me, why did he only ever send the one guy? Did he just give up after I killed the first guy?"

 

A small smile graced his face. "I'm not sure if he gave up, but I will tell you one thing: You are extremely resourceful, Y/N. When Michael died, and Dean and I started looking for you, it's possible we never would have found you if it weren't for the fact that you were looking for us. So, if Michael had continued looking for you, even if you didn't know it, I doubt he would have found you."

 

When you met Sam's eyes they were sincere. "Thank you, Sam."

 

"No worries. But please? Talk to your dad."

 

You simply agreed.

 

~ ~ ~

 

You carelessly flipped through a book. You were alone in your hospital room. You had been there for about a week and were recovering quickly (even if it was slower than you would have liked). It was nice to finally be able to read things again without your brain feeling like it was going to explode from too much concentration.

 

"Knock, knock," a familiar voice said, before walking in.

 

"Hi Ben," you smiled, putting your book down on your lap. "What's up?"

 

As he sat down beside you and grabbed a hold of one of your hands, his face softened. "Y/N... I've got to go home."

 

You raised an eyebrow. "Like, back to Oregon?"

 

He nodded. "My mom doesn't even know I'm alive. And I don't think a phone call to say I'm okay will do it at this point. I need to see her."

 

You quickly agreed with him. "I understand. Of course, I'm just... sad to see you go."

 

Ben squeezed your hand gently. "I know. But I promise to call you, alright? And Dean said we could meet halfway sometimes, you know? Hang out together, just the three of us."

 

"Forget Dean," you laughed. "I'm eighteen now, I can take my own trips to visit you... I want to meet Lisa!"

 

He smiled. "Sure. We can work that out."

 

~ ~ ~

 

Your father wouldn't be alone with you the entire time you were recovering. He wouldn't talk to you except to ask how you were doing or add into a conversation you were having with someone else. Even in the car ride home, finally going back to the bunker, he was silent.

 

You couldn't force him to talk to you. At this point, Sam must have told him that you remembered what he said that day.

 

The minute you got home, you stumbled to your room on shaky legs. It had been over two months since you had left this place. With a deep sigh of relief you threw yourself onto the bed, hoping you would never have to leave it again.

 

You probably could have fallen asleep there if it weren't for your father's voice in the doorway. "Y/N? Could we talk?"

 

You pushed yourself up, standing on the other side of the bed from him. "Yes..." you began, anxiously. "What do you want to talk about?"

 

"You know by now, don't you? I'm sure Sam told you about... your mom."

 

"Why didn't it come from you? Why didn't I hear that two years ago, after it had happened?"

 

Dean looked down, then made a few weary steps towards you. "I was afraid," he claimed. "I didn't want you to know."

 

"I don't blame you for my mother!" you insisted. "I'm simply upset that you didn't tell me for so long Dean. I'm upset that you watched me search desperately for answers as to why that man came into our house and shot my mother and you couldn't muster up enough courage to admit to me that you knew why and end my suffering."

 

He kept his eyes locked on the floor, not saying a word. The only move he made was to turn and sit on the side of your bed, facing away from you.

 

"Dean... Do you remember what I said to you after you took me on my very first hunt? You said that you would feel responsible if I died and I told you that the only person who could be blamed from my death was the one pulling the trigger. That still applies to my mother. You weren't the man with the gun and you aren't Michael. Michael made that order, not you, so I don't blame you for that."

 

"Y/N..." he whispered. "I'm so sorry."

 

He rubbed his face. You could tell he felt sad, uncomfortable, guilty...

 

Something compelled you to walk forward. Maybe it was the way he said that. Maybe it was how bad he truly felt. Maybe it was the fact that he was your father, who had loved and cared for you the past two years. Or maybe it was your own sadness at missing your dad. And your own guilt. But, in the end, you were beside him. Your hand crept up to his shoulder.

 

He shook slightly under your touch, but you could see him smiling. It was bittersweet, but any happiness you could bring him right now brought you happiness as well.

 

Your hand slowly moved in circles on his back and a smile tugged at your lips too. Not because things were okay again. God knows, things probably wouldn't be okay between the two of you for a very long time. But because, just by looking at him, you knew they would be again. Someday. Maybe even better than okay.

 

It would take baby steps to reach that point. But you knew you could do that. Because the two of you had been taking baby steps together since you met.

 


End file.
